


I could use somebody

by Samcgrath



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Forbidden Love, Jealous Louis, Liam Payne & Louis Tomlinson Are Brothers, M/M, Pining, Slow Build, description of war but only twice, drunk boys, just really slow build, mild PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 23:38:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1488391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samcgrath/pseuds/Samcgrath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis comes to stay at Liam's place while he's on a business trip. Liam's boyfriend Harry is the last person Louis should be dreaming about or lusting after. But what do you do when you fall for your little brother's boyfriend? Louis tries to stay away. He does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coming home

**Author's Note:**

> So, Louis and Liam are brothers. The Harry/Liam part in this is minimal, most of the story is just angsty pining and slow build. Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own One Direction, neither am I profiting from this. It's not real, just a figment of my imagination. Sometimes when I can't sleep, I write. Nothing more, nothing less.

The stocky man sitting next to him is listening to extremely loud music but Louis doesn’t want to pick a fight so he keeps his eyes closed and leans back toward the window. The stewardess’ voice brings him back from the edge of oblivion he had almost slipped into even through the Sugarbabes screaming from the man’s earphones.

 

“Excuse me, sir could you keep the volume down a little? It’s disturbing the other passengers.”

 

“What?”

 

“If you could lower the volume a little bit, thank you.”

 

“No. It’s inside my earphones, I don’t see the point of using them if I can’t—“

 

“Just take the fucking volume down, no one wants to know how you just needed some heartbreak or about your red dress.”

 

His tone might be dry and not very aggressive but he can still picture his Mum looking at him with an unimpressed expression on her face. ‘Lou, don’t be mean’, she’d probably say. He ignores the looks he gets from the man and everyone else who’s turned around to see the commotion.

 

At least he gets a peaceful hour of sleep after that. The stewardess smiles gratefully at him when he exists the plane, he responds with a polite one of his own. Hefting the carry-on bag he has onto his shoulder, Louis makes his way to the Arrivals bay. 

 

There are smiling faces and some teary-eyed reunions happening all around him, Heathrow has always been a place people can see the rawest human emotions unfurling. 

 

Past a couple kissing each other in a borderline indecent manner, he finds his name printed on a banner surrounded by butterflies. Liam is looking around frantically while a tall, lean boy stands next to him with the banner held above his head. 

 

When their eyes finally meet, a huge grin appears on Liam’s face as he rushes forward and wraps Louis up in his arms. The carry-on slips to the ground as Louis struggles to breathe in Liam’s death-grip, his oversized jumper is soft against Louis’ face. Liam doesn’t let go for a good minute.

 

He’s finally come home.

 

***

 

Liam’s arms are stretching the sleeves of his jumper, Louis remembers his little brother as a lean boy with flaky arms and no biceps whatsoever.

 

“Do you live in the gym or summat? I’ve seen babies with heads smaller than those.”

 

A sharp giggling sound makes him whip his head around and he finds the tall boy with his hands clasped over his mouth while he is bent in half at his waist and his shoulders shake. Liam takes his hand off Louis’ shoulder to go stand next to the boy and pulls him up with a hand around his waist. Louis sways his eyes away and turns to pick up his bag, he feels like he’s intruding on something personal when the boy stands up straight and Liam whispers something in his ear.

 

“Harry, this is my older brother Louis. And Louis, this is Harry. He laughs at everything, apparently.”

 

“Heeeeeey.”

 

Louis’ stunned by the deep slow drawl of Harry’s voice. If anything, he’d expected him to have a high voice to match the boyish face and the 19 years of age that Liam had told him he was. But instead even in that one word, there’s depth and roughness that makes Louis want to hear him read poetry on a Saturday night or Sugarbabes lyrics even. 

 

Harry stretches his hand towards him and Louis looks up to find the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. His own hand moves without his accord as he has to force his eyes away from ruby red lips and deeply-etched dimples.

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Li’s told me so much about you.”

 

Startling green eyes are no less of a danger to his sanity but he smiles back at Harry anyway.

 

“He’s told me a fair share about you, too. And it’s nice to see you in person.”

 

The grainy video camera on Liam’s laptop had done him no justice, Louis thinks. Two months ago, when Liam had insisted that Louis talk to his boyfriend in a video chat, Louis had begrudgingly agreed. He was high the whole time and 90% of the conversation had been spent asking ‘Can you see me? I can’t see you. Liam, hang on a minute, you’re frozen again.’ 

 

He’d seen one screenshot of Liam with his arm around a younger looking lad and on Louis’ enquiry of whether Liam was now dating jailbait, Liam had chuckled and replied that Harry was legal. 

 

In no way had Louis been prepared to be faced with this absolutely breathtaking boy. Man, Louis thinks but he hardly looks like one. With his eyes blinking slowly with sleep settled in them seeing as how it’s past midnight, with his unruly curly hair framing his face and his high-school uniform like blazer, Harry isn’t far from looking like jailbait. 

 

And Louis would never have agreed to live with them if he’d clearly seen Harry on that video chat. 

 

Or if he’d heard his voice. 

 

This is going to be a long month. Liam takes his carry-on from his shoulder and leads them toward the gate to parking. Harry falls in step with Liam and Louis can’t help but notice how his long legs put him a couple inches taller than him and even Liam. His younger brother and his boyfriend. 

 

Liam pulls Harry closer to his side and whispers something to him again. Louis wants to go back.

 

Apparently Liam is rich enough now that he owns a Range Rover. When he opens the passenger side door and holds it for Harry to get in, Louis pries his eyes away and walks to the back door. Before he can get in though, Liam comes around and stops him.

 

“Louis! Hold on a minute.”

 

He looks up at his brother with raised eyebrows but gets no answer. 

 

“Liam, what?”

 

“Are you alright?”

 

What?

 

“What? Yeah, I’m alright why are you—“

 

His eyes land on Harry who’s leaning back in his seat and looking at them with concerned eyes but the moment he sees Louis watching him, he turns away.

 

“You seem a little quiet. Is everything alright?”

 

“Well, the fact that I’ve just travelled 8 hours in the middle of the night might have something to do with it.”

 

He doesn’t mean to snap but the concern in Liam’s voice and the look in Harry’s eyes just now makes him want to lash out. 

 

“Oh. Well, I thought maybe there was something—“

 

“No, there isn’t.”

 

“Lou, you know you can talk to me. Or even—“

 

“Can we not do this in a parking garage at the airport at 1 am, please?”

 

Liam nods his head and turns around silently to open the driver’s side door and climb in. Louis takes a deep breath before climbing in himself. He forcefully keeps his eyes fixed on the window as the lights and streets of London come into focus outside.

 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees a flash of movement. Liam’s hand moves from the gear shift and covers Harry’s on the centre console and Louis feels a strange tug in his chest. He looks out the window and finds small rain droplets starting to cling to the glass.

 

***

 

He wakes up to someone shaking his shoulder and calling his name, when he blinks his eyes open he finds Liam leaning over him with soft eyes. He sits up to find they’re parked inside a garage, Liam is getting out already and opening Louis’ door to pick up his bag. Harry is nowhere to be seen.

 

Liam leads him inside through a back door into a huge room which turns out to be the lobby. Louis looks around and finds an open kitchen to one side separated by an island slab and a couple of stools.

 

There is a huge flat screen on the wall opposite and a glass table surrounded by plush leather sofas. The wall next to the kitchen is covered with photos, it’s a cluster of memories Louis can tell but he doesn’t want to see them for some reason. Liam tugs on his sleeve a moment later and leads him up the stairs and into a room that’s bigger than any room Louis has ever lived in. 

 

He sets down the carry-on bag on a lavish bed and turns around to close the door behind him.

 

“Lou. I just want you to know that you can talk to me about anything. Mum told me about the incident last week and I promise I won’t force you to talk but if you want to, then I’m here.”

 

“Thanks, Liam.”

 

“And Harry is here too. I know you two haven’t really talked to each other much but he told me to tell you that anything you want, feel free to ask him. I mean, I’m leaving tomorrow and I’ll be back in a month but you can still call me. 

And you and Harry will be just fine, I promise. He’s great, you’re going to love him.”

 

He silently nods as Liam surges forward and pulls him into a hug.

 

“I’ve missed you so much, Lou. And I’m so glad you’re back, you have no idea how many nights I spent lying awake and praying that you’d be fine. And Harry was with me through all of it. You might not know each other yet, but you do in a way. You two mean the world to me.”

 

He blinks away the tears threatening to spill from his eyes as Liam holds on tightly. When he does let go, Louis assures him with a smile that he is fine. 

 

Even though he is breaking apart inside, he convinces Liam he’s fine. 

 

Saying his goodbyes, Liam leaves him in the empty room and Louis has never felt this lonely in his life.

 

Not when he was heart-broken and left behind two years ago. Not when he was on a plane to Afghanistan as a Military Psychologist last year. Not when he saw three of his friends being gunned down on the street three weeks ago. 

 

He’s never felt this lonely as he does in a house with his little brother and his perfect boyfriend. 

 

Sleep comes in fits like it does these days, flashes of blood and gunshots wake him up twice. But he’s used to it by now, waking up trembling or drenched in sweat with sheets clinging wetly to him.

 

Waking up screaming and crying on the bad days.

 

He’s used to it.

 

***

 

A loud crash from somewhere startles him to sit up alarmed. This is an unfamiliar room, the bed too soft to be a sleeping bag and the resounding silence too quiet to be a war zone in Afghanistan.

 

He rubs his eyes and lies back down on feather soft sheets, the curtains are half-drawn and sunlight trickles in through the gaps. The ceiling is a pale yellow colour and Louis struggles not to compare it to the beige and green tent he had shared with Tom for over a year.  
Before Tom was shot down by an armed boy, he’d stopped to help cross the road. 

 

It was a clear day, the heat of the afternoon sun had made them lose their helmets and protective gear. Captain Hill would have been mad if he’d known, but he didn’t. They used to do that on the hot days when the Captain was busy with paperwork or with visiting officials. 

 

Like little children they were, misbehaving and going around creating a ruckus when Cap wasn’t around to keep them in check. Lovely day and they piled up into the ‘Jackal’ to cruise around the taped off area.

 

Strictly speaking, Louis should never be on the patrolling vehicle since he was a Psychologist but Tom let him come along anyways. Usually, they would just drive around aimlessly while doing the patrol tasks. 

 

That day Tom decided that they are going to the empty school field and play some footie. Will and James accompanied them and they sang crappy versions of Robbie Williams’ songs all the way there. 

 

In the sizzling heat, all the lads were down to their vests and their jackets tied around their waists. It was a stupid decision, Louis knows it was stupid but it didn’t stop them. 

 

After two hours of throwing the ball around and being drenched in sweat and mud as a result of the rather intense game of football, Louis asked the others to wait for him while he took a piss. 

 

With his back turned toward the wall, he was busy whistling some old, classic tune when the sound of gunshots made him duck down on instinct. The minutes ticked by painfully slow as he waited for someone to come for him.

 

His pants still undone and wet Louis crawled out from behind the wall and found Tom lying on the road in a pool of blood. On his right, James was lying on top of Will and neither of them moving. 

 

His ears were still ringing from the gunshots, Tom’s hand moved slightly and Louis ran over to him. He knew this was the last time he was talking to his friend.

 

“Was helping him cross the road, 's a boy. Shot us all. My mum, take care. Please.”

 

Those words replay in his mind every day. 

 

The searing heat. The deafening silence. The dead eyes. 

 

He will never forget.

 

Another loud noise from somewhere startles him, interrupting his thoughts.

 

Picking up his joggers from where he’d left them next to the bed last night, he puts them on and walks out of the room to check where the noise is coming from. He hears rustling downstairs and follows the sound to find Harry standing at the kitchen sink with his back to Louis. His barefeet haven’t alerted Harry of his presence so he clears his throat to catch his attention.

 

The boy starts at the sound and turns around abruptly spraying Louis with soapy water. On instinct, he steps back more than anyone else would. As if he’s been burnt.

 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to drench you in soapy water. I’m sorry.”

 

Louis steps back when Harry tries to touch his wet shirt, he’d walked toward Louis so fast that he’d never had a chance to move back. 

 

Now, with Harry’s hands clutched in Louis’ away from his chest, an awkward silence settles in the room. 

 

He lets his hands go slowly.

 

“It’s okay.”

 

“I’m so sorry, I keep doing these things. I didn’t mean to startle you either, I was just…”

 

“It’s alright.”

 

Silence hangs heavy between them, Harry raises his hand to sweep a curl off his forehead and his green eyes lower to the ground behind long lashes immediately. Louis doesn’t want to shatter this moment for some reason so he waits quietly.

 

A second later, Harry turns around and walks back to the sink. His back is not as broad as it was just a moment ago, Louis wonders if he can feel the stiff discomfort too. 

 

“Liam’s gone to the office to collect his paperwork for the trip. He said he’d be home for dinner.”

 

Louis nods his head before he remembers that Harry can’t see him. 

 

“Oh.”

 

He stands where he is while Harry keeps washing his dishes. He doesn’t know how much time passes.

 

‘This house is huge. Liam has done well for himself. I’m so proud of him. This internship has worked out great for him, nice house and nice boyfriend. Harry. 

That telly is enormous. Football would be fun to watch. Does he have sky on subscription? I bet he does. I should get something to eat, maybe Liam made something for me. Maybe not, he’s got more important things to do now. He’s gone to work and I’m just going to have to—‘

 

“Louis?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I asked if you wanted eggs for breakfast. Scrambled or omelette?”

 

“Scrambled, please. Thanks.”

 

A warm smile greets him as Harry points to the stool and turns around to break an egg over the pan. He sits silently as Harry works with his back to Louis. Neither of them tries to start a conversation.

 

They eat silently and Louis goes back to his room when he’s done. 

 

“Thanks for the breakfast.”

 

“You’re most welcome.”

 

This is going to be a long month he thinks as he stands under the cold spray of water. If he has to live in the same house as Harry without Liam around, this is going to be a long month.

 

Maybe they’ll learn to co-exist silently. 

 

Maybe, they’ll talk more than ‘sorry’ and ‘thank you’.

 

He doesn’t know which one he prefers.

 

***


	2. My heart has started to separate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading and leaving nice comments, they certainly make me get up in the middle of the night to write impromptu scenes! Cheers!
> 
> PS-This is unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine.

He settles down with his laptop and a warm blanket around him. Missed a full year of what’s been going on, now is a great time to catch up. Lost in his marathon of Skins, he absolutely forgets about everything else. And these are episodes he’s already seen. Of course, if given a chance a normal person would watch new things but leave it to him to miss telly for a year and then end up watching the episodes he’s already seen.

 

A knock on his door jars him out of his daydreams about Nicholas Hoult.

 

“Louis?”

 

“Come in.”

 

Harry pops his head in before opening the door fully and entering. 

 

“Do you want some tea?”

 

He’s left staring at the boy standing with his hands behind his back and looking expectantly at Louis. He doesn’t know this boy so then why does it feel like he knows Louis? Why is there a false sense of intimacy in their interactions when they’ve hardly known each other for a day?

 

He blinks and looks away before any of this can come tumbling out of his mouth.

 

“I would love some, yes.”

 

Harry turns to leave the room without waiting for Louis and he wonders if Harry doesn’t want him in the kitchen and that’s why he’s offering to make the tea himself. But then, he remembers Liam telling him Harry wanted to help. Maybe the lad thinks he can help by not bothering Louis, well he is on the right track. 

 

But he’s not a slave driver so burrowing out of his cocoon of warmth, Louis walks downstairs. Harry’s back is to him when he gets to the kitchen and he seems to be putting the kettle on. There’s a pack of Yorkshire on the island, Liam must’ve told him then.

 

When he turns around, Harry startles again not expecting Louis to have followed him.

 

“Oh my—you really need to make more noise while walking.”

 

“What? Like stubbing my toe into every surface?”

 

It comes out before he can stop the words, but maybe it’s worth it to see a blush dusting Harry’s cheeks at the question. Louis’ noticed his clumsiness without really meaning to. Walking into every single surface is quite a skill, he reckons.

 

“You noticed then.”

 

“I did, yes.”

 

For a second there, it felt like he was taking the piss with an old friend and it’s this pseudo intimacy that baffles him. If anything, he needs all the lines to be crystal clear in his mind. This is a dangerous slope and he knows it will be a close call in the end. 

 

“Do you want to sit on the roof? It’s sunny out.”

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

He makes his cuppa silently next to Harry who seems to be making himself a cup of some sort of green tea or something. A good natured dig dies on his tongue when he reminds himself that he doesn’t know the lad well enough to mock his tea habits.

 

It is nice out, a soft wind picking up every now and then. Harry settles on one of the lounge chairs and Louis takes a moment to look around before settling into the chair next to Harry’s. 

 

“So, when do you think you’ll go see Jay?”

 

“Wow, you don’t joke around d’ya?”

 

“No, I didn’t mean—I meant she really wants to see you and Liam was saying—“

 

“You’ve met her?”

 

“Once, yeah. Christmas last year.”

 

He nods his head silently, wondering what she’d have thought of Harry. Probably would’ve loved him, with his slow drawl and easy charm.

 

“Yeah, she uh—she said we should drive up. After Liam leaves, you’d have time and I could work around my classes. We can go, if you want.”

 

“Yeah, sure. So what’re you studying then?”

 

“Um, business and law. Little bit of English. I’m still deciding what I want.”

 

“Those are good subjects, quite a lot of options.”

 

“Yeah, I do music too. I’ve still got three years so I’m taking my time.”

 

“You’re nineteen, right?”

 

“Yup. Just started uni. last year.”

 

He doesn’t want to think about it but he remembers how young and naïve he was at nineteen. Thinking the world was pure and any opportunity was his. Now, he feels corrupted, like there’s a fixed number of choices he has to make. For some reason, he doesn’t want to think about how Harry is going to be disappointed when he realizes this.

 

“You go to University of London?”

 

“Yeah, I’m on a scholarship.”

 

“Well, you must be good at studying then.”

 

“Not really. Anyway, you went there too, right?”

 

“Yeah, ages ago. God, I feel so old. But yeah, I got my Psych degree from there.”

 

“Liam told me. He talks a lot about you. On our first date, there was this bloke at the table behind us and he was chewing rather loudly. I hate when people do that, Liam looked at my face and started laughing. I thought he was taking the piss but then he started telling me this story about how his older brother hates when people chew loudly and how once you picked a fight with a kid in Nandos. And the whole night, he told stories about you and I tease him about it even now.”

 

“In my defence, that kid started chewing even louder after I asked him to stop. He was just asking to be tripped on his way to the bathroom.”

 

Harry is laughing with his head thrown back, his laughter ringing loud in the silence. Louis has to make an effort to look away.

 

“He did tell me you were funny, I just thought it was his brotherly love for you. He does love you though, I mean I’ve got an older sister and I love her to death. But Liam respects you so much. There were times when he stayed up all night just looking through old photos and telling me stories about you.”

 

He can only nod because he already knows how much Liam looks up to him. Even though, he hasn’t done anything to deserve this unconditional admiration.

 

“You guys been together for long?”

 

It isn’t the right response, he knows it isn’t but he needs to know. 

 

“Almost a year. I think it was about three months after you were deployed.”

 

Unwanted memories come back at the mention of his deployment and he’d rather not think about those things right now. Harry seems to catch his discomfort.

 

“You don’t have to talk about it or anything. I know Liam worries but please don’t feel pressured or anything.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

The tea’s gone cold now so he takes his leave and walks back to his room and to Tony getting angry at Sid. The conversation keeps replaying in his head so he decides to go for a walk. It’s getting dark out and with the rush hour traffic already gone, it’s rather quiet.

 

The wind is blowing rather soft against his thin t-shirt, he’s definitely missed London weather. The music in his ears and the slight shiver he feels running down his spine chase away all thoughts. By the time he starts walking back, it’s drizzling and he is a bit soaked but it’s a pleasant wetness.

 

When he gets in through the door, the sight that greets him is Harry with his back to him sitting on the island and Liam’s hands on his waist from where he must be standing in between Harry’s legs. He must’ve been quiet while coming in because they seem oblivious to his presence and Louis really doesn’t want to see this.

 

Harry seems to have sensed him somehow because his head whips around and he’s staring at Louis with wide green eyes. The next second, he’s pushing Liam back and hopping off the island slab. They look like high-schoolers who were caught making out in the school toilet.

 

Louis doesn’t understand the sharp twinge of discomfort that shoots through him at the sight. He mutters something about wet clothes before hastily rushing up the stairs.

 

***

 

Dinner finds him sitting across from Liam and Harry around the little dining table and he isn’t sure he likes this arrangement but he settles quietly with the glass of red wine that Harry poured him. 

 

The fajitas are really good, good enough that he could be eating at a high-end restaurant. He is trying to eat silently but Liam’s supposedly sneaky glances are making it hard. He ignores the attention for about five minutes but he’s never been praised for his patience so he lashes out rather quickly.

 

“Liam. What?”

 

“I was just—I uh.”

 

“What?”

 

“I think you should talk to someone.”

 

“Someone who?”

 

“Like a psychologist or some—“

 

“I am a psychologist.”

 

“Yes, but like you should see someone for…”

 

“For?”

 

“For your PTSD.”

 

“Woah, hang on a minute! I don’t have PTSD.”

 

“I heard you last night, while you were sleeping. It didn’t sound--“

 

“Yeah well, three of my best mates got gunned down in a street. I think I’m allowed to have bad dreams some nights.”

 

“I still think you should see someone. Post traumatic stress disorder is really common in people who’ve served—“

 

“Yes, I think I know what PTSD is, Liam. I spent four years studying psychology, I think I know.”

 

“Then why won’t you—“

 

“Because I don’t need to.”

 

“Mum thinks you should. Daniel was saying how his brother—“

 

“Liam, I’m sure Harry here doesn’t want to hear everything about our messed up family just yet.”

 

Harry has been quiet this whole time, but at the mention of his name he ducks his head down. Before that, their eyes meet across the table and he holds Louis’ eyes for a second too long. He’s left clenching his fist in his lap when Harry looks away, that second of contact lasted so long. 

 

Liam stops talking after that and his hand finds Harry’s on the table. Louis keeps his eyes fixed on his food the rest of the night. He feels like an outsider looking in on a perfect world and something heavy settles in his chest at the thought.

 

He lingers in the lobby while Harry and Liam load the dishwasher talking about some friend of theirs. He says his goodnight hurriedly and hugs Liam in case he doesn’t him before he leaves. When he settles into bed, the thought of Harry’s eyes boring into him makes him sit up abruptly. 

 

This shouldn’t be happening. 

 

He is Liam’s boyfriend. He is a teenager. 

 

There are so many things wrong about this but he can’t help the shiver that goes down his spine at the memory of that one second.  
Just one second.

 

And he has to clench his fists to stay grounded. 

 

***

 

Liam wakes him up in the middle of the night to say he’s leaving for the airport now and his taxi’s coming. Despite his protests, Louis gets up and follows him outside to say goodbye when the taxi finally gets there. He holds Liam close for a moment and tells him to take care.

 

Harry looks asleep on his feet even as Liam holds him close and kisses him. Louis doesn’t stay to watch them after that. Sleep doesn’t come again that night, he lies in bed watching Skins till he hears Harry in the kitchen downstairs. 

 

Throwing on his pants and a shirt, he pads down stairs into the kitchen to find Harry listening to Radio One while making breakfast. He goes straight to the fridge to get the milk out.

 

“Good morning.”

 

“Morning, did I wake you up again?”

 

“No, I didn’t actually sleep after Liam left.”

 

“Oh, well you could take an afternoon nap then. Eggs and bacon okay?”

 

“Yeah, thanks.”

 

“Could you pass me a plate?”

 

“Hang on.”

 

They work around each other and it doesn’t feel like the first time. After his tea is done Louis follows Harry over to the dining table and sits down next to him. 

 

“You got classes today?”

 

“Um, no I’ve taken two weeks off. Don’t have much to do really.”

 

“Huh, well we can watch the Arsenal-United match if you want.”

 

“Oh that was today? Damnit, I completely forgot! I mean yeah, let’s do that.”

 

“One condition though.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Which team do you support?”

 

“United…?”

 

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

 

“United.”

 

“A man after my own heart!”

 

Harry laughs with his whole body, his curls cover his face as his hands slap his knees and a seal bark escapes before he can stop it. Louis is mesmerized. He really needs to look away but even when Harry stops laughing and his eyes find Louis’, it’s hard to look away. It’s just a few moments of eye contact but it feels like a barrier breaks down.

 

It’s easy sitting with him on the sofa and watching crap telly for hours. They’ve been lounging here since breakfast and somewhere in the middle of The Great British Bake Off and Doctor Who, Louis falls asleep.

 

It’s a numbing sort of oblivion he falls into. That kid in form six who smelled weird and Robbie Williams are in a playground while his Mum is talking to Captain Hill about Louis’ A-levels. It’s one of those nonsense dreams everyone has with familiar faces in weird situations with people who’ve never met each other.

 

And then a boy with a covered face holding a semi-automatic comes into the playground and takes aim at him. Louis looks around and finds the place empty except for the little boy. Everyone else is gone.

 

This is the boy that shot Tom, he thinks. He’s never seen the boy but he knows this is him. 

 

He moves closer but doesn’t shoot. Louis can feel the familiar sense of guilt and helplessness take over him.

 

“SHOOT ME.”

 

The boy stops walking toward him. He doesn’t shoot either.

 

“COME ON, DO IT! HIT ME. KILL ME.”

 

He is shouting and his throat burns from the scratch but the boy doesn’t move. Instead he feels arms around him, they’re encircling him and he’s pulled into warmth but he can’t see anyone. He’s being dragged and moved and embraced but there’s no one else here. 

 

“Louis, wake up. You’re home, you’re safe. Wake up.”

 

That sounds like Harry but he’s not here, Louis can’t see him anywhere.

 

“You’re safe, I’m here. I’ve got you, Lou.”

 

He opens his eyes to find himself surrounded by Harry. By his arms and his chest and his smell, his curls are tickling Louis’ face and his arms are holding him in place. For the first time in a while, he feels anchored. 

 

His body stops shaking, Harry is still holding him tight. Louis’ face is nestled into his chest and Harry’s arms circle around his back and his big hands are grounding him. He stays like that for a moment before pulling back. 

 

‘You’re not allowed.’ The voice inside his head sneers at him.

 

“Sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t—“

 

“No, hey. No, don’t apologise.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Let me get you some water.”

 

He stays on the sofa while Harry is gone, pulls himself together. He hasn’t let anyone see him like this, it would give them power over him - power to destroy him. It makes him vulnerable.

 

But for some reason he doesn’t feel like he’s lost anything right now. It doesn’t feel like he’s vulnerable when Harry has just seen him at his worst. 

 

“Here.”

 

He sits down next to Louis and doesn’t bring up the dream or doesn’t start offering him advice, Louis thwarts the urge to reach over and touch him. Just touch his arm or lean into him or anything really. 

 

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

 

That’s all he says before turning back toward the telly. Louis feels that familiar tug in his chest, he just wants to reach out and tangle their fingers together but he knows he has no right. So he settles for a quiet thanks.

 

“Thanks, Haz.”

 

The name slips out without his consent but Harry’s lips twitch into a small smile so he lets it be. If they spend five hours watching Gogglebox then no one has to know.

 

The laziness of the day is replaced by loud banter as Harry makes pasta while Louis interrupts him with funny stories that make him bend in half and slap his knees while laughing like a lunatic.

 

Louis is really enjoying this, someone who appreciates his sense of humour and isn’t laughing just for the sake of it. Harry keeps complaining about how Louis isn’t letting him cook but then every time there’s a new joke, he stops stirring the sauce and hunches over giggling.

 

“So anyway I was at the zoo and saw these monkeys, like small squirrel monkeys and I’ve researched they can be kept. As pets, small monkeys and I’m going to get one and call it Mario. Mario the monkey. I am potentially gonna get a monkey, no joke.”

 

“Now I want one!”

 

“No worries, you can play with Mario. I’ll let you, Hazza.”

 

His fingers still in Harry’s curls when it hits him exactly what he’s doing. A photo frame on top of the fridge catches his eye and he drops his hand immediately. Harry seems to catch on as well but he doesn’t say anything and just keeps stirring the sauce.

 

“Why thank you, Lou.”

 

They finally get the pasta done, well Harry does. All Louis did was sit on the counter and tell jokes. The pre-game interviews are on as they settle on the sofa. 

 

By the time the game starts, they’re both two beers down and the dishes are unceremoniously dumped in the sink. They are ready.  
It’s a slow game in the beginning and they spend most of the time discussing favorite players and how Arsenal is shite, turns out they both despise the Gunners equally if not more than the other.

 

There’s nothing better than a shared love for a football team and a shared hatred of a club. In the midst of jumping around every time there’s a penalty, shouting profanities at the telly when Santi Cozorla takes an awful dive and the referee misses it and frantic celebration when Rooney scores the only goal of the match, he forgets everything.

 

At the end of the match they’re both lying exhausted and dead on their feet. Louis hasn’t seen a proper football match live in a year and even then he can’t remember the last time a slow match was this much fun. Maybe it’s the light buzz from the three beers he’s had.

 

Harry proposes they go to the roof since it’s nice out and they could share another beer between them. Louis wonders if he can ever say no to this boy.

 

As they’re lying around staring at the dark sky, Harry starts talking in his slow voice and Louis doesn’t have a choice but to listen.  
Because he talks in this way, this slow drawl that makes you listen. It commands your full attention, like every word is important and you need to be listening lest you miss something.

 

“I know why you don’t want to talk to anyone. I mean, I think I do. When I was little, like ten, I was coming back from my mate’s birthday party. His mum was driving and he was sat beside her in the front. I was in the back and I had my seat-belt on. 

So halfway there, a drunk driver hit us on the driver’s side. My mate’s mum died on the spot, she went through the windshield. My mate Matt, he was in the hospital for two years after the accident. I was fine, just had some minor injuries. 

But I didn’t go see Matt in the hospital. I never saw him after the accident, until I ran into him in a supermarket three years ago. He recognized me and he didn’t even hesitate for a second before throwing his arms around me. I was stood there absolutely dumbfounded. I told him why I never went to see him, I told him I felt guilty for him and his mum.

Cuz like, I spent so many nights thinking if I hadn’t gone to the party or if my mum had picked me up then Matt’s mum would still be alive. He hit me upside the head and then pulled me into a hug.

He told me something then, he said ‘I don’t blame you, I don’t blame anyone. My mum’s gone and I spent two years in a comma but all of that made me who I am. And I’m never changing who I am.’ He said that to me and it took me a while but now I understand what he meant. I still feel a bit bad some days but most days I think of what he said to me. And I see him every week or so now, it’s alright. 

So you know, even if you don’t want to talk to me about it, just remember what he said. It is what it is.”

 

He’s so lost in those words that he doesn’t catch when Harry shifts a little closer to him and his hand comes to rest on Louis’ arm.   
There’s that feeling again, being anchored. 

 

Words start flowing out without his permission and Harry’s hand is gently drawing circles on his arm as he listens attentively. Louis tells him everything about that day, more than he’s told anyone else. 

 

“And I just, I wonder if I hadn’t gone to take a wee and we’d just left after playing maybe they’d still be alive. If we’d just followed orders and done our jobs properly. I keep seeing Tom’s face when he said those words to me. I keep thinking how that could’ve been me telling someone to take care of my mum. That could’ve been me. That should’ve been me.”

 

This is what’s been eating him alive for weeks. 

 

That it should’ve been him.

 

Why was he left alive? He should’ve been killed too. 

 

He doesn’t realize he is shaking until Harry is sitting down next to him and pulling him close. Warm arms encircle him and he feels like he’s drowning.

 

“Lou, you have to stop thinking like that. You couldn’t have done anything, no one could’ve done anything. It is what it is.”

 

They stay like that for minutes or hours maybe, he isn’t sure. Eventually, Harry pulls him to stand up and guides him downstairs to his room. Louis feels like he’s in some sort of a trance, like he’s outside his body. Everything feels so surreal.

 

Harry tucks the blanket around him and is turning to leave when Louis shoots out his hand to stop him.

 

“Stay.”

 

Nothing makes sense, it’s all an illusion. A sweet dream.

 

Harry lies down next to him and Louis burns with the need to reach over and pull him close. It’s killing him but he turns and lies on his side and whispers goodnight before falling asleep.

 

It’s the most peaceful night’s sleep he’s had in years.

 

***

 

He’s lying awake in Louis’ bed, the clock on the bedside table says it’s 4 am. Louis is softly snoring next to him with his lips parted slightly and his chest heaving with every breath. It’s like looking at an art piece in a private viewing. 

 

He reaches out and touches his cheek with the softest fingers just to assure himself that he’s real. That he’s not someone Harry has made up in his mind. 

 

He is real. And he is Liam’s brother.

 

Harry shouldn’t be in bed with him, much less be looking at him in the middle of the night. But the need to protect him and defend him against the world is overwhelming. He looks so small like this, with the quilt covering his body and his hair messed up and sticking in all directions. He looks so much younger, without the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

 

But Harry’s knows it’s not true.

 

If not for the stories Liam has told him then for what Louis’ told him tonight. Flashes of his trembling form and unshed tears in his eyes make Harry reach out again. He wants to pull Louis into himself and hold him close till he knows he has someone. 

 

But does he, really?

 

He wants to be there for him, always. But he can’t. Not while he’s with Liam.

 

And this is different, he knows this is. With Liam, it’s about steady routines and perfect friends and chaste kisses. He loves Liam, he does. 

 

But he’s known Louis for two days and in these two days he’s felt more emotions than he has in ages. It’s like Louis' presence unsettles him, stirs up every hidden desire and urge. It’s like they’re in a separate field of gravity because he feels like he’s being pulled toward Louis every second.

 

His eyes find Louis’ across the room every time, the itch to touch just once is becoming insatiable. And it’s not just the physical element of it, he’s attracted to everything that makes up Louis. 

 

It’s hard to think it even to himself, but in the darkness of the guest room he can bring himself to admit it.

 

It’s just being around Louis. Listening to him talk, or his jokes or anything really, just being. It feels like he’s been in the dark for years and he’s suddenly seeing the sun.

 

Like he hasn’t felt anything in years and now jolt after jolt of electricity travels through him every time he sees Louis.

 

He’d always known that he is too serious for life. Always worrying and thinking too much, his mum had said. And then he’d met Liam. Liam, the only person who’s even more serious than him.

 

He remembers Gem saying something like ‘You need someone to lighten you up, Liam is even more of a worrywart than you are! You’ll just both suffocate each other.’ He’d disagreed with her then, told her he loved Liam.

 

That hasn’t changed, he still does love Liam. 

 

But maybe Gemma was right. Maybe he needs someone who can make him laugh more often. Granted, Louis is in a bad shape himself but Harry has seen enough of him to know that he uses humour as a shield. As a defence mechanism. 

 

Just the thought of seeing him laughing with his crinkled eyes everyday warms something in his chest.

 

And he wonders if he really is in love with Liam. If he is then why does Louis make him feel like Summer with every word out of his mouth?

 

Is he in love with Liam or is it just a comfortable partnership that he’s mistaken for love? Is he in love with Liam or is it that he loves Liam like he loves Niall and Matt? 

 

A quiet shudder runs down his spine as he thinks of the possibility that he might have been lying to Liam. And to himself.

 

Louis stirs next to him. He can’t stay here anymore. Throwing away the covers, he gets out of bed and rushes to get his jogging shoes on. Maybe running will help clear his mind a bit.

 

***

 

An hour later he’s still thinking about how Liam has been a true friend to him. How he’s stayed with him through thick and thin and given him unconditional love. 

 

He gets back and makes himself a cup of herbal tea. By now the thoughts of betrayal and infidelity have subsided, he blames them on 4am.

 

Everything feels extreme at 4 am, he argues. It’s a bad time to contemplate anything and an even worse time to make decisions. 

 

‘I’m alright. Liam and I are alright. Louis is a good friend, nothing else. I just felt like this because I was in his bed and because I saw him vulnerable.

I’m in love with Liam. 

We’ve been together for a year now and I love him. We’ll go to the Funky Buddha when he gets back and celebrate our anniversary.’

 

He believes it. Last night was just a fluke. He’s only known Louis for two days, after all. And you don’t fall in love in two days. No one does.

 

By the time Louis comes down for breakfast Harry is absolutely not thinking about any of this. They spend another quiet day watching crap telly. The hangover from last night seems to have taken a toll on Louis, he’s mostly quiet.

 

He doesn’t bring up last night at all. Neither does he talk about how Harry had slept in his bed but had been gone when he woke up.

 

Harry stays quiet mostly focussing on what Simon’s saying to his group on the X-Factor. If he makes a conscious effort to sit on the other end of the sofa than Louis and if he notices, he doesn’t say anything. 

 

Halfway through Louis excuses himself to go out, Harry doesn’t offer to tag along and Louis doesn’t ask him. It doesn’t feel right, it’s like they’re trying too hard. Feels like they’re fighting when they’re not.

 

Harry takes to cleaning while Louis is gone and if he moves some of the photos of him and Liam from the lobby, it’s because there are too many.

 

Louis is drunk when he gets back and dinner is absolutely silent except for their spoons and forks hitting the plates. He’s loading the dishwasher when Louis bids goodnight and he’s gone before Harry can turn around.

 

A heavy weight settles in his chest as he stands alone in the kitchen wondering what he’s done wrong.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something you like? Something you don't?
> 
> Title from: Look after you by The Fray


	3. You've begun to feel like home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So since I had Monday off I spent the whole day writing about 12k for this story and I can't wait to share it with you all so strap on for some long chapters and a shit-load of angst!

The last few days haven’t felt right. Harry has been very quiet and Louis doesn’t feel like pushing him. They still have breakfast together every day and dinner but it seems like the hours in between are filled with unimportant things. At least for him, those hours feel like he’s just wasting time to get through the day to the dinner table when he can sit down across from Harry.

 

They don’t talk much even then, Louis is burning with the need to go back to the way they were. Comfortable jokes and mocking and teasing each other while watching crap telly all day. But something seems to have been lost here.

 

Liam hasn’t called since the first day, Louis got an email yesterday but that was it. And then he’d spent three hours running trying to wash away the guilt he felt in the pouring rain. He’s noticed Harry being distant too but it’s not like he can bring up the subject so they’ve both resigned to quietly moving around each other. 

 

He’s also noticed some of Liam and Harry’s photos missing from around the house. It makes him a bad person but it feels easier to breathe now. When he doesn’t have to see how happy Harry is with Liam, every turn he makes in the house.

 

It all comes to a head when he offers to go on a grocery run for Harry but he insists to come along. Just as they’re carrying the bags out of Tesco and into the car, someone comes up behind Harry and he drops his bags.

 

“Hand over your wallets!”

 

It doesn’t take him even a second to drop the bags and reach back for the Glock 17 he’s carrying in his belt under his jacket. The chav startles when he sees the gun pointed at him and Louis could probably just have let this go, it’d probably have been easier if he just handed his wallet but the thought of Harry getting hurt made him move before he could think.

 

Harry is looking at him with wide eyes but Louis needs to deal with the chav who’s holding a hockey stick in his hand. Louis raises his eyebrows at him but he stills look indecisive. The hockey stick is balanced precariously on Harry’s shoulder and the bloke looks mental enough that he could take a swing at his head any second.

 

“Get the fuck out of here or I will shoot. Don’t think I’m kidding.”

 

“You don’t look like someone who carries.”

 

“Ex-military, mate. Don’t make me shoot you in the balls.”

 

Louis knows he’s won this when a look of doubt flashes across the lad’s face. But he squares his shoulders then and the movement almost dislodges Louis’ heart just as Harry looks back at him with terrified eyes.

 

“Just leave, I won’t report you.”

 

There’s a moment of indecision where Louis bargains what would happen if he were to shoot the bloke to get him away from Harry. It would still be self-defence, right? Right.

 

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to make that choice as the lad withdraws his weapon and runs away before Louis can even lower the gun. Harry is frozen in place with his hands in the air as Louis turns the safety on and puts his gun back in his belt.

 

They seem to be stuck in a weird limbo where they are just staring at each other. It feels like Harry hasn’t looked him straight in the eye in ages. Louis stays where he is and gives him time to get out of his shocked state.

 

Then a moment later, Harry is letting out a deep sigh and rushing forward toward him. Without thinking, Louis wraps his arms around him and pulls him into his chest. Harry’s chin is on his shoulder and they just stand like that in the middle of the empty parking, clutching at each other.

 

Harry stays silent the whole way home as Louis drives by memory and somehow gets them there. He gets the groceries in and locks the car behind him. Harry is still in the processing stage, Louis sits him down on the sofa and puts a glass of water on the table for him as he goes to the kitchen to sort the groceries.

 

He’s in the middle of sorting the spices when he feels Harry walk up behind him and cling to his back. All his breath leaves him in a rush as he holds on to the edge of the counter with white knuckles. 

 

It takes everything he’s got to not turn around and just kiss the breath out of Harry. 

 

He stays still while Harry just stands there with his arms around his chest like he needs Louis to even stand up. After what feels like a lifetime he withdraws his arms and steps back. Louis turns around to find his eyes lowered to the ground.

 

“How long have you been carrying that gun? How’d you get it into England?”

 

“I’ve had it for two years, just never took it out until I got back. It was here, with a friend of mine. For safe-keeping.”

 

Harry nods his head silently, Louis knows he has more questions but he doesn’t push.

 

“Do you always carry it around, now?”

 

“Since I got back? Yes.”

 

Another moment of silence.

 

“Will you always carry it around? Forever?”

 

That sounds like a long time, he thinks.

 

Who can think of a forever? Except I can. I can think of a forever with you.

 

“I don’t know. Maybe someday, I won’t.”

 

He just nods his head again and turns around but before walking away he whispers a soft ‘thank you’. Louis has to stop himself from going after him, he wants to hold him like he’d held Louis. Wants to comfort him and protect him but he has no right. Harry needs time to process the shock. He lets him go.

 

***

 

Just as he’s convincing himself to stop watching after this episode of the Friends marathon, he hears the faintest sound of dragging feet behind him. Harry is stumbling into the lobby with his eyes half closed and Louis barely resists the urge to go over and carry him here. He keeps his eyes fixed on the telly as Harry walks to the sofa at a dead-slow pace. By the time Louis can see him from the corner of his eye, his lip hurts because he’s been biting on it for so long waiting for Harry to hurry up.

 

He is still pretending to be watching telly when Harry plops down next to him and leans in so close that his head is on Louis’ shoulder. As much as he wants to be angry he can’t be, his body melts into Harry’s as he leans in further. His eyes are still fixed on the telly.

 

Without a warning Harry lies down with his head in Louis’ lap, his eyes staring up at Louis who has forgotten how to breathe. After days of radio silence, he isn’t sure how to respond to this. But one look at Harry’s innocent eyes staring questioningly up at him, and his lips part in a smile involuntarily while his hand moves to tangle in his curls. Harry’s eyes slip close at the contact and he sighs.

 

Louis wants to know if Harry realizes that he’s killing Louis here.

 

When Harry doesn’t move to get up or open his eyes, he returns to Friends. Half his mind is comprehending Ross’ argument on screen but half of it is still thinking about how soft Harry’s curls are and how close he is now and how sweet he smells. 

 

Halfway into the episode, Harry moves for the first time as he shuffles closer to him and he looks down to see Harry watching him. He smiles when their eyes meet and whispers, 

 

“Thanks, Lou.”

 

And that’s all it takes. He smiles back and goes back to his show, his hands never stilling in Harry’s hair. They both fall asleep at some point. 

 

He wakes up to Harry shaking his shoulder and telling him to wake up. It’s still dark out and he resists but in his half-asleep state Harry forces him to wake up and go to his bed. Trudging upstairs in his socks, he doesn’t bother taking off his pajamas. He falls asleep to thoughts of green eyes and beautiful smiles. 

 

***

 

He’s dragging his feet down the stairs and plops onto the stool, Harry’s clear laughter ringing in the kitchen. 

 

“You’re really not a morning person, are you?”

 

“No such thing. It’s a myth.”

 

With his head on the cool counter, he can’t see Harry’s face but his laughter is enough of an indication that he’s one of those morning people.

 

“Didn’t you have to get up early while you were in Afghanistan?”

 

They’re comfortable talking about that now, apparently. For the first time probably, he doesn’t feel hesitant to talk about that time. He should look into that but first tea.

 

“No, since I wasn’t actually supposed to exercise every morning at the arse crack of dawn. Tea?”

 

Harry chuckles somewhere behind him but sets down a cup next to his ear anyway. He shakes Louis’ shoulder to inform him that his tea is indeed ready. Huh, he could get used to this.

 

No. Don’t get used to this. Right.

 

A nice steaming cup of Yorkshire greets him when he finally lifts his head up and Harry has situated himself on the sofa in front of the telly. Louis picks up his cup and follows him there.

 

“You’re doing a good job of spoiling me, Harold.”

 

Harry just shrugs before taking a sip of his tea.

 

“A couple of my mates are coming over for a pint or two later. They’ll stay for dinner, I think. You should meet them.”

 

“A bunch of hipsters sitting around and talking about good thrift stores in town? No, thank you.”

 

“Heeeey.”

 

A fond chuckle escapes him before he can stop it. Harry’s pouting at him and he looks like a ridiculous rendition of a ten-year old asking for more pocket-money. Do they even do that, anymore? Pocket-money? Six year olds have ipads these days so probably not. Shame, what a great tradition lost.

 

“What? Are you telling me they’re not hipsters like you?”

 

“I’ll have you know that Niall is the coolest Irishman in all of London and…”

 

“And?”

 

“And his boyfriend is rad as hell.”

 

He can’t help it that those words said in Harry’s voice make him snort tea out of his nose and down his shirt. He doesn’t even bother getting up and cleaning because he’d have to stop laughing to do that. Harry on the other hand is running back with a flannel and cleaning up the sofa while pushing his legs aside.

 

“Get up you heathen, you’re soaked in tea!”

 

“Say that again, Haz. Please?”

 

“Piss off.”

 

He is still laughing five minutes later and Harry is now ignoring him. He’d spent the first two minutes glaring and glowering but now he’s facing the telly and actively ignoring Louis next to him. He lets out a loud sigh and finally gets up to put his cup in the sink. 

 

His fingers find their way into Harry’s hair as he’s walking away from the sofa and the soft curls twirl around his digits. 

 

“You know I’m just kidding, Haz.”

 

Harry doesn’t respond, his eyes intently staring at the telly. Louis gets back from the kitchen and settles down next to him, Harry doesn’t budge.

 

“Hey.”

 

He finally turns around and frowns at Louis. 

 

“Why’d you have to be so mean?”

 

“I’m sorry, love. Just kidding.”

 

He moves a bit closer and rests his head on Louis’ shoulder without a word. He’s been forgiven.

 

Louis doesn’t remember when they became this close. It’s only been a week but it feels like he’s known Harry all his life. Soft curls brush against his cheek, he rubs against them gently and Harry settles a bit more into his side. They spend hours watching Britain’s Got Talent and just lazing around on the sofa.

 

***

 

He’s trying on his fancy button-down but it refuses to fit. He knows he hasn’t gained this much weight but apparently he has because his clothes won’t fit him. This used to be his well-fitted, form flattering shirt and now the buttons won’t close.

 

He throws the stupid shirt on the bed and digs around to find his scoop neck t-shirt. He’s not entirely sure why he’s making such an effort, it’s only because Harry’s mates coming. He wants to impress the hipsters, yes that’s it. 

 

When he finally comes down to the kitchen it’s to find Harry fiddling around in the fridge and muttering to himself. He can’t help the fond smile that takes over his face.

 

“Who’re you talking to there, Curly?”

 

A not so manly shriek rips out of Harry and he looks absolutely terrified when he turns around.

 

“You need to start wearing shoes inside, Lou. Scared the life out of me!”

 

“That was quite a manly yelp there.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“What’re you doing buried in the fridge anyway?”

 

“I’m looking for beer, but there’s only the non-alcoholic stuff Liam drinks.”

 

Something heavy settles in him at the mention of Liam’s name. It’s like he’d almost forgotten about his brother, whose house he’s staying in and whose boyfriend he’s talking to.

 

“Um, I could go buy some.”

 

“No, I think there’s some in the garage. I’ll go get it.”

 

“No, that’s okay. I’ll get it.”

 

“Thanks. The crate will be right next to the toolbox.”

 

“Alrighty!”

 

Harry doesn’t need to know that he already knows where the beer is. Neither does he need to know that Louis spends five minutes deep breathing and calming himself down after the sudden onset of panic when he’d started thinking about Liam and what he’s feeling for Harry right now. Military training comes in handy, he feels a little better as he carries the beer from the garage. 

 

A familiar voice stops him short just as he’s putting the bottles down on the counter. 

 

“Lou?”

 

He knows that voice. 

 

“Zayn?”

 

He turns around to find his best mate standing in the kitchen with a huge grin on his face. He feels like he’s been played.

 

“What’re you doing here?”

 

“Is that any way to talk to your best mate?”

 

Zayn pulls him into a tight hug and for the first time since getting home, he lets himself go. With Liam, there was always a sense of tightness that didn’t let him give in completely. Around Harry he constantly has to watch how much he’s giving away.

 

But with Zayn, it feels natural. Because he knows Louis. As opposed to Liam who puts Louis up on a pedestal and worships him, Zayn actually knows him. He knows his bad stories and not just the embellished ones Liam knows. Zayn has seen him at his worst, at his lowest and he stayed around till he got back up.

 

“Alright, let me go now. Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft on me, Bradford Badboi!”

 

“Oi! Don’t be cheeky, Tommo.”

 

Zayn’s got a hand on his shoulder and he’s just looking at Louis right now. Without a word, his eyes are asking if Louis is alright. They’ve known each other long enough to be able to read the other one. He says yes without words. Zayn pats his shoulder and smiles at him just as Harry starts talking from somewhere behind them. Harry.

 

“So, what’re you doing here then?”

 

“Harry called me, said not to tell you. Surprise!”

 

He says that with the flattest voice and a dead-straight face, absolutely no sign of excitement whatsoever. Only Zayn.

 

Louis turns around to look at Harry who beams at him from across the room where’s he's talking to someone. He feels the sudden urge to go over and pull him into a hug but that’s probably not appropriate so he turns back to Zayn, who is looking at him rather curiously.

 

“So, vas hapennin’?”

 

“Don’t do that, they don’t know about that.”

 

“What? They don’t know about DJ Malik? A travesty! A--”

 

“Shut it, Tomlinson.”

 

“What’s he said now?”

 

Zayn looks absolutely terrified when Harry comes to stand next to Louis and a pale, blonde boy walks over to Zayn. Louis is about to answer when Zayn cuts him off promptly.

 

“Nothing, he’s said nothing. Just catching up. Ni, this is Louis my tosser of a best mate who didn’t even call me when he got back from fucking Afghanistan. And Lou, this is Niall. My boyfriend.”

 

He isn’t sure which part of that sentence did it but he’s frozen on the spot now. 

 

“Did you break him? I think you broke him.”

 

A voice with a thick Irish accent asks from somewhere, Louis can hardly process it.

 

“Na, he’s alright, babe. Just give him a minute.”

 

They all move away from him and into the kitchen to get their beers, Louis is still stuck on the spot.

 

When did Zayn get a boyfriend? He had a girlfriend for years, Perrie. Who he said he was going to marry, then when did this happen? 

 

He feels a hand curl around his shoulders and that’s Harry who is leading him toward the sofa where Zayn and his boyfriend are settled. Harry sits him down and hands him a beer, settling in next to him. 

 

“You okay?”

 

That seems to break him out of his stupor.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Zayn and his boyfriend are in the middle of talking about some new film when he finally finds his voice.

 

“When did you get a boyfriend?”

 

“There he is, ladies and gentlemen!”

 

“No seriously.”

 

“Well, I met Niall through Harry last year so we’ve been together ten months now.”

 

“Wow! I thought--never mind. Well, at least someone’s got their love life sorted.”

 

It maybe in his head but he feels Harry tense up next to him. He doesn’t reach out.

 

“Look who’s talking. You spent a year surrounded by jocks in the middle of a desert, don’t tell me you didn’t get any.”

 

He’s about to respond when Harry gets up and says something about getting a glass and walks away. He feels like it’s somehow his fault but he forces himself to remember that Liam is Harry’s boyfriend and they’re happily committed. It hurts somewhere inside of him but he can think clearer now.

 

“You know me, Malik. They were good looking lads, most of them. I had my days. Anyway, you going steady now, then?”

 

“Yes sir. I’ve settled down and don’t you dare bring up any of the old wild—“

 

“Say Niall, has Zayn ever told you about this one girl that he fucked in the kiddie poo—“

 

Before he can finish his sentence, Zayn is pouncing on him and cutting off his air supply so he ends up on the floor a minute later coughing and choking. Niall is on the floor next to him laughing his arse off while Zayn glares at them both. 

 

Louis decides that he likes Niall.

 

The night goes on as they reminisce about college days and how wild their dorm parties used to be. The beer has made his thoughts a bit hazy and the company is making him giddier by the minute, it feels like he’s knows these people for ages. 

 

After dinner, Louis notices that Harry seems a bit distant before he disappears from the room. He excuses himself from Niall and Zayn and goes looking for him. He finally finds him on the roof standing next to the railing looking down toward the city. He slips in next to him and just stands silently for a moment.

 

“You alright?”

 

It takes him a minute to reply but Louis waits patiently.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Look a bit preoccupied.”

 

“Just thinking about Liam.”

 

It feels like someone has doused him with ice cold water. 

 

“You need a minute?”

 

“No, I’m all good.”

 

They don’t say another word and just silently make their way back. Niall and Zayn are curled up around each other and Louis feels another jolt of reality. 

 

Liam’s boyfriend. 

 

The rest of the night is spent watching Thor and cuddling on the huge sofa. Zayn and Niall are whispering sweetly to each other as Louis looks over to find Harry staring at the screen blankly. He’s sitting away from Louis, leaving a gaping distance between them that he makes no effort to close. 

 

He gets cold halfway through but he stays where he is and doesn’t try to move toward Harry who’s hogging the blanket. Somewhere along the way, he falls asleep. 

 

He wakes up to Harry shaking his shoulder and calling his name softly.

 

“Lou, wake up.”

 

He blinks and raises his head slightly to see that he’d fallen asleep on Harry’s shoulder. He sits up abruptly and looks around to find the room dark with no sign of Zayn or Niall.

 

“They’ve gone up to the guest room.”

 

He chances a glance at Harry and finds him looking lost and a little bit hurt. As much as wants to touch him and make him smile and fall asleep next to him, he gets up from the sofa and murmurs a soft goodnight before going to his room.

 

He doesn’t fall asleep for hours. 

 

Thoughts of warm eyes and soft curls keep him awake instead of gunshots and blood.

 

It’s a different kind of pain. He doesn’t know which one hurts more.

 

***

 

Zayn is almost jumping in place, Harry has never seen him this animated. When Niall had called yesterday about coming over for drinks, Harry and Zayn had planned to surprise Louis. He’d let them both in when Louis was still in his room and Zayn is waiting for him to get out of the garage now so he can surprise him, only Louis is taking longer than expected and Zayn looks like he’s going to explode any second.

 

When Louis finally returns and sees Zayn, his eyes light up and Harry thinks he’s never seen him look this happy. And when he turns around to look at Harry, just the way his eyes soften he knows Louis is saying thank you. He wonders just when he became so eloquent in Louis-talk.

 

The night progresses with beers and nostalgic conversations about the old days. From their stories it seems that between Zayn and Louis every student at London University had seen the inside of their dorm at one point during the two years they stayed in student housing. He feels an uncomfortable tug in his chest as Zayn shares the stories. 

 

And then he asks Louis if he slept with anyone in Afghanistan and Harry feels like the breath has been punched out of him. It shouldn’t affect him, should not bother him but for some reason he can’t sit there and listen to the answer.

 

The thought of Louis being with anyone unsettles something in him. At the risk of sounding too cliché, it feels like someone has stabbed him in the gut and proceeded to turn his intestines inside out.

 

It’s not a comfortable thought.

 

He knows he has no right to think like this. Louis owes him nothing. So then why does it physically pain him to think of Louis with anyone?

 

He goes back and listens to more stories of their time at London U. Dinner is a pizza they ordered and Harry eats silently as Niall tells him about their nosy neighbour who flirted with Zayn again this morning. He doesn’t feel very hungry but he still eats two slices. He can feel Louis’ eyes on him but he doesn’t dare look up.

 

His own mind is torturing him enough, replaying all the conversations they’ve ever had. The voices in his head are telling him he’s too far gone to turn back now. He feels sick.

 

After he’s done eating, he excuses himself to go the roof. The wind is too slow today, his voice wouldn’t carry if he were to scream and he feels like he’s trapped. His body aches to touch and taste and kiss but he knows he can’t.

 

Louis finds him and comes to stand silently next to him. Harry wants to pull him closer but also push him away. This struggle is killing him.

 

“You alright?”

 

He isn’t but he knows that if he answers honestly Louis will pull him closer, try to comfort him. He isn’t sure he could survive that right now.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Louis doesn’t stop looking at him and Harry wants to hide. He wants to run away and hide. But he also wants to bare himself to Louis. Allow him to see everything, take him apart and put him back together.

 

“Look a bit preoccupied.”

 

There’s a million things he could say but there’s only one thing that will make Harry step back. That will make him guilty enough that he won’t run into Louis’ arms. He might hurt Louis in the process but he’s saving them both.

 

“Just thinking about Liam.”

 

He can pinpoint the exact second Louis’ face falls, the instant he realizes that Harry is pushing him away. They haven’t talked about this at all, this bond that seems to join them. This connection that neither of them seems to have agreed on but they both can feel it. 

 

He sits on the other side of the sofa, keeping a safe distance from Louis. Zayn is looking at him worriedly but he avoids the looks and forces himself to stare at the telly. The whole time his fingers itch with the need to reach out and touch, whisper sweet nothings into Louis’ ear like Niall and Zayn are doing but he knows he can’t.

 

At some point, he does end up closer to Louis. He covers him with the blanket as Lou shuffles closer and rests his head on Harry’s shoulder. Niall is snoring softly on the opposite sofa and Zayn gets up without disturbing him. He silently asks Harry is he’s alright before bending down and picking Niall up to carry him into the guest bedroom.

 

Harry is left in the empty lobby with Louis lying half across him. He doesn’t want to wake him up but the need from earlier crawls into his chest and he shakes Louis’ shoulder anyway. When Louis wakes up, he sits up abruptly as if he’s burnt and something hurts inside his chest but at this point Harry isn’t sure if pain is just a perpetual state of living.

 

The way Louis had just shied away from him, maybe he too has realized just how much of a prick Harry is. Cheating on Louis’ brother, of course he would hate him. 

 

He sits there while Louis gets up and goes to his bedroom. 

 

The darkness around him makes it easier to face the truth.

 

He wants Louis.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, talk to me! Please.


	4. If I don't say this now I will surely break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments, they make me work faster and keep me up at nights to write more so cheers! Hope you're well rested and ready for another healthy dose of angst, let me know what you think!
> 
> PS-Tags might be edited a bit.

The next few days are strange to say the least, Harry seems distant some days but others he makes Louis feel like everything is alright with the world. Louis isn’t sure how he himself feels these days. 

 

He knows he has fallen for Harry.

 

He’s stopped lying to himself about that but he is not going to act on it. He loves Liam too much for that. Even though there’s lesser and lesser of a sign everyday that Liam lives here. Photos from the wall keep disappearing and Liam hasn’t called in over a week either.

 

Louis doesn’t think about that first night’s dinner anymore when he and Harry sit down to eat at the table. He doesn’t think about Liam and Harry in the kitchen either. Now, the house holds memories of their own. 

 

He also doesn’t feel like he’s looking in at someone else’s perfect life from the outside.

 

Zayn and Niall come around some days and they sit around talking about football and other things. During one such late night, Niall mentions a gig.

 

“A gig? What for?”

 

He is looking at Niall questioningly as the lad looks somewhere behind him with wide eyes. When he turns around, he finds Harry making cut-throat motions with his hand at Niall. Interesting.

 

“What else are you hiding from me, Harold? Any Illegitimate children? Off-shore accounts? Love affairs?”

 

He knows he’s a little shit but he definitely did not sign up for the deep blush on Harry’s face that’s turning his pale skin red even down his neck. He did not sign up for this.

 

Which, why is he blushing anyway? He should ask him this. Some other time though, when there’s no one else around. 

 

Okay, so he needs to stop drinking. Before he blurts something he shouldn’t.

 

“Don’t tease him, Tommo. He looks like a tomato, aw poor Hazza!”

 

“Oh, don’t coo over him, Niall! Will somebody tell me what gig, already?”

 

“Our Harry here sings. And a new club downtown wants him and the band to play this weekend. It’s really cool and like proper fun!”

 

“Woah, you sing? You’re in a band? When you said ‘I do music’ I thought you meant like study in a classroom. What the fuck?”

 

“I sing, sometimes. But I don’t do gigs, as Niall and Zayn both know.”

 

He's glaring at Zayn and Niall -it feels like an inside conversation that Louis would very much like to be a part of - and he looks angry as hell, he's never seen Harry look furious. He looks so fit right now. Fuck, he puts his beer down. Stop drinking.

 

“What? Why the fuck not?”

 

“Well, it interferes with my study—“

 

“But you don’t have any classes—“

 

“Also, Liam doesn’t really like that I put so much time into—“

 

“Well, Liam isn’t here, is he?”

 

He knows he’s said it like a challenge, his eyes are probably boring into Harry daringly right now but the thing is he doesn’t care. It could be due to many reasons.

 

He wants to see Harry on the stage, singing - Check

 

He is angry at Liam for denying Harry anything - Check

 

He is asking Harry if Liam’s absence means anything to him - Maybe. Maybe he is. 

 

Maybe not.

 

Harry looks back at him with defiant ferocity in his green eyes and Louis is faintly aware that there are other people around and he should look away but it’s hard to look away from Harry on normal days and right now when he looks like he might just pin Louis to the wall any second, it’s torturous to sway his eyes away. 

 

He finds Zayn staring at him with his jaw hanging open and Louis knows he knows but he makes no effort to explain himself. He’s too busy getting his heart rate to come back down after that stare-down they’ve just had.

 

After Harry seems to be back in control, he starts talking to Niall about some course and Zayn finds this moment to turn toward him and raise his eyebrow skillfully. 

 

“What?” 

 

“You know what.”

 

“Well, what do you want me to say?”

 

“Oh come on, Lou. No. Not him, not Harry.”

 

“Zayn, it’s killing me. Every day, it is killing me but I swear to god if you don’t stop talking about it right this second, I will kill you before it kills me.”

 

That gets Zayn to shut up. Apparently he wants Harry to sing as well because he starts the topic again once Niall and Harry stop whispering between themselves.

 

“Harreh, what do you say? We can all go out on the weekend and you lads can perform. How long has it been since you played? Plus, Lou hasn’t been out in ages, right?”

 

He wants to say yes, he is definitely nodding his head like an excited dog and it’s probably that image that makes Harry giggle and agree to perform. They fall asleep on the roof that night before Harry wakes him up early morning to get him to go downstairs.

 

Zayn and Niall seem to have left. Harry goes straight to the kitchen while Louis goes downstairs to take a shower. It’s really hard standing under the warm spray and not thinking about Harry.

 

His morning semi isn’t helping very much. As much as he tries to think about Nicholas Hoult or any porn he has ever seen in his life, the only image behind his closed eyelids is that of Harry looking heatedly back at him last night.

 

If his imaginative brain supplies him images of long fingers wrapped around him and wet curls sticking to a pale face or long, thin legs wrapped around his waist while his hand moves firmly along his length and his legs tremble under him, then it’s his business.

 

He can hear Harry cooking in the kitchen and a genius idea strikes him. He doesn’t know enough about Harry, he should look around. He remembers Harry talking about a cupboard on the second floor full of old stuff. Tip toeing back up the stairs while Harry sings about chocolate or something, he finds the right one after opening two cleaning supply-cupboards. 

 

***

 

He can hear Louis but he’s not in the lobby or the kitchen. Harry calls out and the little sounds stop for a second before starting up again and Harry can’t help the wave of fond that bowls him over. From what he’s noticed, Louis is like an inquisitive puppy - looking through things and then leaving them messed up once his curiosity is sated.

 

Harry can hear his feet pattering around, he follows the sound to the storage cupboard on the second floor and finds Louis surrounded by photo albums and old trophies from Harry’s school. He is absolutely buried in one of the albums that Harry recognizes as the one Gemma had made for him when he’d decided to move to London. That one has the most embarrassing photos from his childhood. 

 

Louis doesn’t even acknowledge him, he doesn’t realize that Harry is standing there which is saying something since he’s always hyper-aware of where everyone is. But right now, he looks like a toddler surrounded by his favourite toys while nothing else matters.

 

Harry shuffles a little closer and leans on the wall outside Louis’ room. He shouldn’t be doing this, watching Louis like this but he can’t bring himself to move.

 

The way Louis’ hands skitter across the album and then stutter to a stop on a particular photo, his eyes bore into the picture as he stares unabashedly – Harry wonders if he should find it this endearing. He hasn’t given Louis permission to look through his photo albums, even Liam hasn’t bothered to look through those. But for some reason Harry wants Louis to know him, to see him as a kid with his sister’s clothes on and making funny faces.

 

He’s been staring for too long, Louis isn’t paying him any mind so he calls his name softly. Louis startles as if caught by surprise which baffles Harry because Louis always knows when someone is around.

 

“Lou?”

 

Louis starts and clutches the album to his chest while turning around to face Harry with wide eyes.

 

“What’re you doing?”

 

“I’m inspecting what kind of a youth you were. Well, you still are a youth but you know what I mean. How long have you been standing there?”

 

“I’m surprised you didn’t realize I was here.”

 

“Yes well, I was busy looking at you wearing your mum’s brassiere. It was hers, I assume.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“It does suit you, I must say.”

 

“Give that here!”

 

He lunges forward to take the album away from him but Louis turns around sharply, holding the album out of his reach. After a fair bit of struggle, Harry is essentially lying across Louis’ knees as he holds the album behind his back with one hand while the other is tugging at Harry’s curls in an attempt to get him to stop squirming.

 

“Give it up, Harold!”

 

“No, never.”

 

“Don’t make me get up, Haz.”

 

“Then give it back! Why’re you so interested in a little boy wearing a bra? Something I should know about?”

 

“That’s a fair comment but in the future, I’d rather you fuck off.”

 

“Aw, have I made you angry, Lewis?”

 

“Get off me, you giant squid!”

 

Somehow they end up sprawled on the cold marble floor surrounded by photo albums and high-school trophies, Louis is struggling to get up as Harry holds him down. It shouldn’t be like this, a simple scuffle shouldn’t make him breathe so hard that he doesn’t know if there’s any air left in his lungs.

 

Louis is so close, a whiff of his after-shave hits him hard enough that he stops moving for a second. Piercing blue eyes are darting across his face and small hands are grappling everywhere in a bid to get on top and all Harry can think about is how he hasn’t felt this alive in years.

 

Everything has been steady for months, monotonous with solid plans and a perfect relationship and here he is on the floor wrestling with the most beautiful man he’s ever laid eyes on and his heart is threatening to beat out of his chest. Louis stops moving under him and he realizes that they’re both just looking at each other.

 

The sentiment reflected in Louis’ eyes is not very different than the one he’s feeling.

 

Like there’s not enough time in the world to learn everything about this person but he wants to try anyway. 

 

He doesn’t remember the last time he felt like there’s something new he wants to explore, something he doesn’t already know. It feels like there’s a hole in his chest, where his heart should be. 

 

Like he’s fading away and no one will remember him, he will just be a speck of dirt on someone’s shoes. No one is noticing except the ocean blue eyes staring into his. He’s drowning and no one can hear his cries but this one person. 

 

He feels like he’s an anchor dropping into the sea, he needs a rope to pull him up.

 

Needs a compass to guide him home.

 

Louis is leaning in ever so slowly and he wants to put his hand behind his neck and pull him in and crush their lips together. It feels like that’s the only way he can breathe anymore but he leans down slowly, afraid and cautious.

 

Why is he afraid?

 

Louis’ eyes are so welcoming, warmth reflected in them so why is he afraid?

 

Liam.

 

He pulls away sharply and stands up, it feels like he’s been burnt. His face is definitely burning up, fingers itch for a touch and lips for a taste but he is not a cheater.

 

Louis is still on the floor looking at him like he’s seeing him for the first time. He’s never wanted anything more in his life.

 

“I’ll go start the tea.”

 

Before he turns around he sees Louis lower his head to the floor and sigh deeply, he thinks he knows exactly what he’s feeling. 

 

The kettle is whistling behind him but it sounds distant, he’s lost in thoughts of golden skin and ocean blue eyes when Louis comes in running and turns off the burner.

 

“So, you still haven’t explained what you were doing in your mum’s bra? And why do you look high in 90% of these photos?”

 

He silently thanks Louis for not pressing on, for giving him the luxury of denying what’s just happened. There’s a storm brewing inside of him and he needs time. Taking a deep breath, he turns around toward Louis and smiles at him.

 

“That was just part of my charm.”

 

“What? 13 year old you looking like you’ve just smoked a blunt?”

 

“What about your childhood photos, then?” 

 

“What about them? I’ll have you know I’ve never had a bad photo taken.”

 

“Is that so? Because I distinctly remember seeing photos of you shirtless with half-lidded eyes and really bad hair. There was one with a cut-off football on your head, and like poorly taken selfies in forests and whatnot—“

 

“Stop talking.”

 

“What about that one where you’re wearing women’s shades, Liam told me they were yours. And don’t think I forgot about the gang signs, either.”

 

“Have you quite finished?”

 

“Westside.”

 

“I’m gonna go now.”

 

“Alright, fine. Sorry.”

 

“You’re a cheeky little shit.”

 

“Wha’? You are the one that—“

 

“Is that tea done yet, bar wench?”

 

“I’m an independent young bloke who don’t need no man! Don’t call me that again!”

 

“You do talk some shit.”

 

“Look who’s talking.”

 

“That the best you can come up with, Harold?”

 

“Just drink your tea and shut up.”

 

“I will if you tell me the story behind the photos.”

 

“Alright, fine.”

 

He turns around to hide the little smile he can’t help, if Louis thinks he’s annoying him with his requests then he’ll let him believe that. No need for him to know that Harry’s enjoying this as much as he is if not more.

 

“So, tell me about this one! Why are you posing with a pink liquid in a test tube?” 

 

“It’s a conical flask.”

 

“Oh god, you would be a nerd.”

 

“What was that, west-side?”

 

“Shut up and tell me.”

 

He knows it doesn’t really bother Louis when he says things to annoy him, his own little shy smile betrays his furrowed brows. He does wonder why they both bother to act annoyed with each other, but then again it’s like how his mum used to tell him and Gemma as kids, that with some people you just want to do things because they make them happy. Even though the other person might know you’re pretending, if it makes them happy then you do it anyway.

 

Why hasn’t he had to do it with anyone else, then? Why hasn’t he ever had to do it with Liam?

 

They’ve never even sat down to look through family photos, never Harry’s at least. The closest Liam’s ever come was when he showed him old photos he had of Louis, that one night he was crying because he missed his brother so much. 

 

Harry feels a wave of guilt wash over him at the memory, he is not being fair to Liam. He’s being heartless.

 

Even though he hasn’t so much as touched Louis inappropriately, it still feels like he’s cheating. Perhaps because it feels like he’s given his heart away.

 

***

 

Harry is gone the next day with a note on the kitchen counter saying he’s run off to practice with his mates for the gig tomorrow and will be back in time for dinner. Louis is absolutely lost.

 

Apparently, Harry doesn’t trust him enough to even make his own breakfast –which, wise choice – and has left him a full English covered with tin foil and the kettle is already full and on the burner. He heats up the food and moves to the sofa with his tea. 

 

Even with the background noise of the telly he feels lonely. Nothing catches his attention long enough and he ends up with half eaten breakfast and a cup of cold tea and nothing to watch a half hour later.

 

After spending the next hour looking through the house and sitting on the roof for a good twenty minutes, he ends up on the sofa again. It’s like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

 

What did he used to do before Harry? Nothing comes to mind.

 

In a moment of sheer masochism, he stands in front of the wall and looks at the few pictures left there. Most of these are from Liam’s and Harry’s childhood. There seem to be no photos of Liam and Harry together.

 

Louis can see the marks on the wall where the frames used to be and he feels a twinge of guilt but he knows he would’ve felt even worse if the photos were there. They were there when he got here which means Harry has taken them off. So does he feel the same way, then? He must, the voice in his head supplies. 

 

He thwarts that little sound and keeps looking. There’s a photo of Harry with a young girl in a graduation robe and hat, she has the same dimples as him and Harry has told him about his sister, Gemma. This must be her. 

 

His hand comes to a stop on one of the larger photos. He recognizes the Christmas tree decorations and the furniture in the photo – it’s their house in Doncaster. His mum and sisters and Dan are smiling at the camera while Liam and Harry stand in front of the tree.

 

Louis flinches back when he catches the smile on Harry’s face and Liam’s arm encircling his waist. 

 

He turns around and grabs his coat to go for a walk. The house feels suffocating.

 

***

 

Harry gets a text message from Louis around noon asking where he is. Nick is looking disapprovingly at him and Harry apologizes before going out onto the balcony. 

 

I’m at practice, can’t talk. Phones not allowed - H

 

Says who? - L

 

Nick, our kind-of manager - H

 

Sounds like a prick. – L

 

He’s a nice guy. What do you want? – H

 

I don’t like him. And be nice, Haz. – L

 

You haven’t even met him. And I am nice. – H

 

So? Still don’t like him. – L

 

Alright. Can I help you? – H

 

Yes. – L

 

How? – H

 

Come home. – L

 

He bends down and lays his head on the railing. It’s becoming harder and harder to tell the limits with Louis. The lines are blurred, he doesn’t know what’s wrong anymore.

 

Can’t, have to practice. Gig is tomorrow. – H

 

You haven’t even played me a song. – L

 

I will, tomorrow. – H

 

What am I supposed to do today? – L

 

He wants to run home right now, just run all the way and sit on a sofa for hours for Louis’ entertainment if that’s what he wants. Jesus, he is gone. Surely this level of attachment can’t be healthy.

 

He can hear Nick starting to grumble inside, any minute now he’ll start talking about bratty lead singers.

 

Watch telly or go for a run, it’s nice out. – H

 

Have to go now – H

 

No, don’t go. – L

 

Nick is starting to get mad – H

 

I hate that prick. – L

 

You haven’t even met him! – H

 

Doesn’t matter, still hate him. - L 

 

Okay, I have to run. Be nice. – H

 

Don’t come back here. Ever. – L

 

I’ll be back for dinner. Don’t be a diva. – H

 

Diva? When I die, then you will understand. – L

 

See you, Lou xx – H

 

I hate you. – L

 

He can’t help the fond smile on his face when he reads that last text. What he wants to do is keep texting him or go home and see him but he knows the gig tomorrow is big and Nick has worked hard to get it for them. Plus Niall and Josh don’t deserve a distracted lead singer.

 

Nick however is in no hurry to start as he is staring at Harry even after he’s taken his seat and is ready. When Nick doesn’t say anything, Harry just raises his eyebrows at him questioningly.

 

“Was that the boyfriend? Isn’t it like middle of the night in Japan?”

 

He can almost feel the heat rising on his face, Niall is looking at him with guarded eyes. They’ve already had a conversation about Louis and Harry’s feelings towards him. More than once. And every time Niall ends up saying something like he really likes Louis but Liam is a nice guy too. 

 

Which just makes Harry even guiltier about having these thoughts about Louis in the first place. But it’s not like he hasn’t tried to stop them. It’s kind of hard to bury urges and deny feelings when you’re sharing a house with the person and spend every night dreaming about them.

 

It’s gotten to the point where he now feels lonely in his bed and the nights they fall asleep on the sofa or on the lounge chairs on the roof, he gets better sleep. 

 

This morning he’d been unable to look at himself in the mirror because last night he’d ended up having a rather explicit dream involving Louis’ hands and his thin lips. In the morning haze and his half asleep state, he’d rutted against the mattress while choking his moans in the pillow. And all the while, his fucking brain was playing repeats of last night’s dreams behind his closed eyelids. 

 

And he’d come so hard that his teeth had pierced through the pillow cover and he’d had to run a load of laundry early in the morning to wash his soiled sheets. 

 

He knew he couldn’t look at Louis without blushing the color of a fire engine so before he could even wake up, Harry’d cooked breakfast and packed his things and rushed to Nick’s at eight. He is definitely in deep.

 

“Well? Is Liam really staying up late to text you? Never pegged him to be the romantic type, honestly.”

 

He ponders the statement for a second and he agrees with Nick, Liam wouldn’t stay up late and text Harry on international calling. Even though it's only eight in Tokyo right now.

 

Louis would, his traitorous brain supplies. 

 

“There’s that smile again! Who’re you talking to?”

 

“It’s uh—It’s Louis.”

 

“Liam’s brother?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Why is he texting you?”

 

“He couldn’t find something at home.”

 

Nick doesn’t look very convinced and Niall is looking worriedly at him and Harry hates himself. Just how has he messed up everything so much in two weeks.

 

They practice until the late hours and even after that Harry offers to drive Niall home. When he idles around and drives slower than usual, Niall asks him if he wants to come in for a bit. 

 

Zayn is surprised to see him and from the way his hand stills on the phone, Harry can tell that he was texting Louis. Zayn excuses himself for a smoking break and goes out to the balcony while Niall fetches him a drink.

 

“I’m really sorry for getting you two in the middle of this. I’m sure Lou didn’t mean to, either.”

 

“You’re my mate Harry and I just want you to be happy. And Zayn is Louis’ best mate so he’s looking out for him. We’re just afraid that no one’s looking out for Liam.”

 

Harry twitches in place at the mention of Liam.

 

‘Yes, your boyfriend, Liam. In case you had forgotten. Louis’ brother.’ The voice in his head really needs to shut up.

 

“I know, I don’t want to hurt him either. I swear I haven’t even touched Louis inappropriately. Like, I just--it’s so hard, Ni. It’s killing me to stay away from him and it’s not just physical. It’s not, I swear.”

 

“Do you think you’re in love with him?”

 

The question he has asked himself countless times. But he’s too much of a coward to give an answer to.

 

“I don’t know, maybe. But it’s more than just lust or attraction. I just—I can’t. He’s everything I want, everything I didn’t know I wanted. It’s like it’s a twist of fate, like he’s there and I want to reach out and touch him but I can’t.”

 

“You’re in deep, mate.”

 

“I know, Nialler. I know.”

 

“Just hang in there till Liam gets here. He deserves to be told in person.”

 

“I know. But I just, I feel like I love Liam, y’know? Like, it’s really scary to think that I’ve been lying to him and to myself. But I do love him just…”

 

“Just not in love with him.”

 

“Is that a thing? I mean, is it different?”

 

“It is. I love you but I’m in love with Zayn.”

 

“I think that’s what it is, then.”

 

“What? You’re in love with Zayn too?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

This is why he loves Niall. He knows when to joke and when to listen seriously. Harry pulls him into a hug and releases a deep breath before sitting back down. Zayn saunters in conveniently then just as he’s sitting back down.

 

“Loueh's gone mad alone in the house.”

 

Zayn is looking at him challengingly as if provoking him to deny this statement or something. His face softens up quickly though as Niall pushes his legs off the sofa to sit down in his lap. Harry has never seen such a transformation before, it’s like Niall actually possesses the ability to calm Zayn down with just one touch. He wants that with someone.

 

“I uh—I should get going.”

 

“I’m not kicking you out, Harreh. I’m just saying you two need to sort his out before anyone gets hurt.”

 

He can only nod his head because he has no answers for anyone. Zayn pats his shoulder encouragingly before smiling at him, Harry really does have the best mates in the world.

 

“I trust you both, but it’s just that Liam is as much of a mate as you are and I don’t want to see him getting hurt. Nor do I want you or Louis suffering, mind.”

 

“Zee, let them sort it out.”

 

“I know Ni but they’re just making it harder on themselves. I mean I’ve offered Lou to stay in our spare bedroom if it’s a problem and he said he’d think about it. That’s okay right, babe?”

 

Niall just nods his head with a warm smile and Harry wants him to say no. He is a masochist who enjoys pain and loves pain and devours pain – he wants Louis to be around all the time so it hurts and keeps hurting. 

 

It’s actually a great solution, what Zayn is offering. But Harry knows he couldn’t live in that house without Louis. 

 

“Harreh, I’m your mate too and I want what’s best for all of you. I think it’s good if he stays here till he finds another place.”

 

He silently nods his head and finishes his beer while Zayn and Niall argue about which movie to watch. He takes their leave and then drives around aimlessly till his phone dies and stops ringing with Louis’ calls and texts.

 

He doesn’t want to see him right now. 

 

***

 

He’s been sitting outside the door for hours waiting for Harry’s car to drive up. Zayn had said that Harry left hours ago so then where is he. 

 

His phone rings with a text and he jumps up to see if it’s Harry. In his hurry, he drops his phone and almost breaks the screen. He’s clutching it so tight while Harry’s text appears in the chat box.

 

Going to Nick’s for the night, tired. See you tomorrow xx – H

 

He sits back down and reminds himself that he is a full-grown man of 24 and has served in Afghanistan. He is not going to cry.

 

It’s getting cold out and he fetches a blanket and settles back on the front steps with his phone in his hand. He should go in and sleep in his bed but it’s one of those things where he knows if he doesn’t stay right here, he might just lose something important.

 

Zayn’s conversation comes back to him as he leans against the front door.

 

“Lou, don’t do this to yourself. I was there two years ago, mate and I saw you break. Don’t do this again.”

 

“I can’t help it, Zayn. And I wasn’t even in love with him, I don’t think. Not like I am with Harry. With him, it’s just much more intense. I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t, if he doesn’t love me back.”

 

“Louis, you can’t. I don’t know what to tell you, you’re just. This is so bad, you’re absolutely—“

 

“I’m mad about him, Zayn. I’ve gone mental. I can’t live without him.”

 

“You’ve known him two weeks, Louis. You can’t—“

 

“I need him, Zayn. I need him.”

 

“What about Liam?”

 

“I…”

 

“He’s your brother, Lou. He looks up to you and he’s going to be heart-broken when he finds out.”

 

“I don’t know what to do, Zayn. I just, I’m going to fall apart if I don’t get him.”

 

“You should move in with me and Niall. Till Liam gets back, you need to be out of that house and away from him.”

 

“I can’t Zayn, it’s been one day he’s been out and I’m already sitting by the door looking at the road.”

 

“You need to stop, Lou. For both your sakes. I know Harry and he will hate himself if he cheats on Liam, you have to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

 

“Alright, I’ll think about it.”

 

This was hours ago and he’s been sitting here just waiting for Harry so he can come home and tell him what to do. But Harry hasn’t come, he’s gone to Nick.

 

He’s shivering now and it’s getting lighter out. His phone is still silent in his hand as he leans back against the door and closes his eyes for one second.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is getting closer to the end, the smut is coming I promise. Let's just sit down and have a chat! Leave me a comment...


	5. Stop making the eyes at me, I'll stop making my eyes at you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter I'm most proud of so far and I can't wait till you guys read this! Okay, couple things. One, I've shamelessly abused song lyrics in this chapter and I'm sorry if it's annoying but I wanted the scene to be really charged and I think I did alright. Also, go to the notes in the end to find what I imagined them looking like for this. And I think it's better if you listen to the song while reading cuz otherwise the breaks wouldn't make sense, you'll know what I mean when you get there. Alright, go forth!
> 
> PS: Title from I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor - Arctic Monkeys

His eyes are burning and his hands ache from clutching the steering wheel so hard and it’s light out now. He keeps driving toward the house before turning around, it’s like his heart is leading him there but he knows he has to stay away.

 

Zayn is right, Louis needs to leave the house.

 

As much as he would hate it, Louis needs to go. Because he knows he’s minutes away from doing something he will most definitely regret. When he can’t drive any longer, he finally turns around and goes home.

 

He thinks it’s a trick of light or his tired eyes when he sees a figure on the front steps but when he gets closer and sees that it’s Louis, his legs move of their own accord and he’s kneeling in front of him and shaking him awake. 

 

Louis looks at him with wild, confused eyes and it takes him a moment to process what’s happening.

 

“Harry! You’re—are you okay? Did you get in an accident?”

 

“Lou, what are you doing out here? Did you—“

 

“Are you hurt? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

 

“I’m not hurt, I’m alright. My phone died. But what’re you doing out here? How long have you been here?”

 

“Zayn called me and he said you’d left so I just sat here waiting for you but you didn’t—“

 

“Have you been here all night? Are you mental? Oh god, you’re burning up! What the fuck were you thinking?”

 

“I was just waiting and Zayn said I should move in with—“

 

“Shut up, just shut up. Let me get you inside. We can talk about that later.”

 

He might be blinking away tears as he’s tucking Louis into bed and turning up the heat. His eyes are tired but he knows that tears are from looking at the state Louis is in. He was shivering when Harry walked him in, tear tracks clear on his face from where he must’ve felt too cold to stay outside but he stayed anyway while his eyes protested. 

 

Harry wants to pull out his own hair in frustration as he sits by Louis’ bed and looks at his fluttering eyelids as he snuffles slowly in his sleep. 

 

When his stomach growls, he makes himself a sandwich and falls asleep on the sofa. Dreams about Louis sitting in a freezer clutching his phone while waiting for his call haunt him. He wakes up to the sound of the telly and finds Louis sitting beside him with a blanket covering them both. 

 

In a silent agreement, they decide not to talk about yesterday. 

 

He takes a cold shower to get rid of his morning wood because no way is he making matters worse by jerking off to Louis again. When he gets back, Louis has made a cup of herbal tea for him and pats the sofa next to him. He takes a seat silently.

 

“So, when are we leaving for the club?”

 

It’s a testament to his mental state that it takes him several seconds to understand what Louis means. The gig. Tonight, the gig is tonight.

 

“Uh, we start around 10 so nine, half-nine should be good. What time’s it now?”

 

“Six.”

 

“I slept for that long?”

 

“Snoring like a baby elephant.”

 

“How’d you know how baby elephants snore?”

 

“I know everything, young Harold.”

 

He doesn’t feel like arguing anymore so he settles down next to Louis as they watch two hours of Gogglebox before Niall calls him to say that they’re coming over. Louis jumps up from the sofa and runs upstairs excitedly yelling something about dressing up nicely and Harry almost brains himself on the wall when he screams loudly from upstairs,

 

“My arse is going to look fantastic tonight!”

 

He takes a deep breath and goes to his room and pulls out his black skinny jeans and the black button-up. He looks alright, now the task of finding the right headscarf. For a minute, he pauses to think that Louis has never actually seen him fully dressed up let alone wearing a headscarf. 

 

Some evil part of him – that he’s inherited/learned from Gemma, no doubt – convinces him to pick up the cross earring he has and clip it on. With a military green headscarf and his silver watch, he reckons he doesn’t look so shabby.

 

For some reason, Niall slips into his room like he’s hiding from someone. Harry is left looking at him quizzically when the lad pushes a finger to his lips.

 

“Shh, don’t talk.”

 

“This is my room, in case you haven’t—“

 

“Shh.”

 

Niall is covering his mouth right now and Harry is part terrified and part curious as to what is happening. He gets his answer when Niall sits him down on his bed with a finger pressed to his own lips motioning Harry to be quiet. He silently rolls his eyes and awaits an explanation.

 

“We’re driving up to the club and Zayn is bringing Louis later. We have to—“

 

“What? Why is—“

 

“Shhh, don’t talk. Let me finish.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“There’s a scout there tonight, Nick heard from the club’s manager and we need to go in and meet up with them. See if there are special requests. We could get signed, Harry! Do you see what’s happening?”

 

“That’s all super-exciting but why are we whispering and why is Zayn bringing Lou later?”

 

“Well, Zayn said that Louis needs to get drunk tonight. And he doesn’t want you around when that happens because of, y’know reasons.”

 

He nods his head in understanding even though he’d really like to see Louis before he gets up on the stage for a major performance. But then he also remembers yesterday clearly and he can’t afford to make another mistake. 

 

He knows he wouldn’t be able to hold back anymore.

 

So when Niall tugs at his arm and pushes him through the garage door, he goes willingly. The whole drive on the way to the club his hands are sweating and he’s clutching his phone daring it to ring with a call or a text. It doesn’t.

 

Nick is waiting outside with Josh and when they show up, he briefs them a little bit about the scout. He also gives Harry a slow up and down and winks before leading them in. He tries to be charming with the scout who’s a young bloke with a 1975 shirt on and he seems to be paying attention, but Harry can feel his cool façade slipping.

 

Nick takes him to the bar and gets two shots of vodka in him. 

 

Just as he’s waiting for the first band to finish, his phone rings with a single message.

 

You’ll do great, Haz. I’m proud of you. – L

 

He doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol running through his system or if it’s the text but he feels like he can take down anyone tonight. Zayn and Louis are nowhere to be seen as Josh and Niall set up their equipment. Harry takes the stage just as Zayn pushes through the crowd to get to the front, a very happy looking Louis right beside him.

 

Harry smiles down at them and Zayn is winking at Niall while Louis takes a second to look up but when he does, his eyes automatically lock on Harry’s and he feels like someone’s just let a live wire lose through his body.

 

He starts off with their cover of ‘I could use somebody’.

 

The crowd seems to really like it as people sway along with the tune. Harry is really trying to look at everyone, he is but Louis is right there and looking up at him like he’s worshipping Harry and it’s so hard to look away.

 

He’s sweating by the time he’s done and everyone seems to be in the mood for a slow song so he starts an original of his as Niall strums the guitar slowly along,

 

‘You don't understand, you don't understand  
What you do to me when you hold his hand.’

 

Louis’s eyes are wide as he stares back and Harry doesn’t know if he’s even singing anymore. Niall is standing next to him and people are moving along slowly with their hands in the air so he guesses he must be singing.

 

Zayn pulls Louis closer to him and whispers something in his ear. Harry wants all his attention on him.

 

‘I don't care what people say when we're together.  
You know I wanna be the one to hold you when you sleep.  
I just want it to be you and I forever.  
I know you wanna leave.  
So come on baby be with me  
So happily.’

 

Louis’ eyes snap away from his and he retreats away from the front of the crowd. Zayn raises his hand at Harry and lets him know that Louis is fine. He points to the bar, Harry’s eyes crawl over the crowd to land on Louis’ form and past him on Nick’s who is looking worriedly at him so he snaps his attention back and pours himself into his lyrics.

 

‘It's four A.M. and I know that you're with him.  
I wonder if he knows that I've touched your skin.  
And if he feels my traces in your hair  
I'm sorry, love, but I don't really care.’

 

If his eyes meet Louis’, he looks away immediately. He understands what Zayn is doing, he’s taking away the distraction so Harry can sing well for the scout. The way Louis is looking toward Nick and the scout, he knows too.

 

The song ends to excited cheers from the crowd and the scout looks pleased as well. They were supposed to do three songs and the third could be a cover of their choice so he walks toward Niall and Josh and tells them what song he wants to do now.

 

His voice is rough from singing and he knows it sounds gravelly so he picks the one song he knows will drag the roughness out and really test his voice.

 

The first note makes most people scream and hold their hands up. Harry closes his eyes and sings the first four verses like that.

 

‘When the days are cold  
And the cards all fold  
And the saints we see  
Are all made of gold

 

When your dreams all fail  
And the ones we hail  
Are the worst of all  
And the blood’s run stale

 

I wanna hide the truth  
I wanna shelter you  
But with the beast inside  
There’s nowhere we can hide’

 

He wants to open his eyes to see the reaction of the crowd, to see the faces of the people who are yelling and singing along. But he keeps them shut till the right time.

 

‘No matter what we breed  
We still are made of greed  
This is my kingdom come  
This is my kingdom come’

 

He finally opens his eyes and everyone is holding their breath for the next line. He takes the mic out of the stand and leans down closer to the crowd. 

 

‘When you feel my heat  
Look into my eyes  
It’s where my demons hide  
It’s where my demons hide’

 

He can’t hear himself over the screaming crowd, he feels hands grabbing at his hands and his legs. This is all he’s ever wanted from being on the stage.

 

‘Don’t get too close  
It’s dark inside  
It’s where my demons hide  
It’s where my demons hide’

 

He wants to look at Louis. He needs to look at Louis. But he knows he has to wait for just a while longer. The crowd simmers down as he sings the slow part and hands are high in the air moving along to the music.

 

‘At the curtain’s call  
It's the last of all  
When the lights fade out  
All the sinners crawl

 

So they dug your grave  
And the masquerade  
Will come calling out  
At the mess you made

 

Don't wanna let you down  
But I am hell bound  
Though this is all for you  
Don't wanna hide the truth’

 

Niall is singing along behind him and the crowd joins in, it actually sounds like it could be a concert. This is what bliss must feel like, Harry thinks. Even the scout is singing along and Nick is actually standing on a chair next to him waving his shirt around. He smiles at the sight before taking a deep breath and plunging into the next verse. He closes his eyes and stands in place preparing himself.

 

‘No matter what we breed  
We still are made of greed  
This is my kingdom come  
This is my kingdom come’

 

He opens his eyes and jumps back as Josh hits the cymbal hard and Niall is backing him up. When his eyes wander to the bar, Louis is already staring at him. 

 

‘When you feel my heat  
Look into my eyes  
It’s where my demons hide  
It’s where my demons hide’

 

The jolt of electricity that passes through him as Louis’ eyes bore into his makes him sing in a deeper voice as everyone else around him gets lost in the tune.

 

‘Don’t get too close  
It’s dark inside  
It’s where my demons hide  
It’s where my demons hide’

 

His eyes stay on Louis’ throughout the song, they’re stuck together like that - neither of them able to look away. 

 

‘They say it's what you make  
I say it's up to fate  
It's woven in my soul  
I need to let you go

 

Your eyes, they shine so bright  
I wanna save that light  
I can't escape this now  
Unless you show me how’

 

Louis is staring at him and even across the room and through all these people, Harry can tell that he’s staring unabashedly, his drink forgotten by his elbow and even Zayn is busy looking around at the crazy crowd. He can feel heat spreading on his face and down his chest even down to his toes. 

 

‘When you feel my heat  
Look into my eyes  
It’s where my demons hide  
It’s where my demons hide’

 

His fingers tighten around the mic and Louis is staring back like his life depends on it.

 

‘Don’t get too close  
It’s dark inside  
It’s where my demons hide  
It’s where my demons hide’

 

It seems like every single person in the room is screaming, it’s loud enough that he could go deaf for a few minutes but he feels like he’s underwater. Like he can’t breathe because the heat of Louis’ gaze is still steady on him even as he forces his eyes away to look at the crowd and smile. 

 

The scout lifts his hand in a two-finger salute and Harry waves back at him. Niall and Josh pounce on him and he’s being dragged off stage but in the one second he does manage to look at Louis, he still finds his eyes directed toward himself.

 

He’s never felt better in his life.

 

When the madness is finally over, Niall drags them over to the bar. Zayn sees them and jumps on his boyfriend immediately kissing him obscenely. Louis is nowhere to be seen and Harry needs to take a couple of deep breaths because he’s not ready to face Louis anyway.

 

It turns out differently than he’d thought it would be. Louis comes back from the loo and Harry is startled when a hand lands on his shoulder and Louis leans in close to whisper in his ear.

 

“You were brilliant, I’m so proud of you.”

 

And that’s all he says. 

 

Harry doesn’t know what he was expecting and he doesn’t let the disappointment show on his face as he orders another shot of vodka. Five minutes and two shots later, Nick finds them with the scout in tow.

 

The lad – Greg James – seems really impressed with them and shakes all their hands before Nick takes him to the side to discuss business. Josh’s girlfriend comes to pick him up a while later and Zayn and Niall skip sometime after. 

 

Louis taps him on the shoulder and asks if he wants to walk home. It isn’t more than ten minutes so he nods his head and follows Louis out the door. The cold air blows his hair off his forehead and his mostly-unbuttoned shirt isn’t doing much to protect him either. But he finds the wind reassuring, in the sense that anything is reassuring if it makes you feel something.

 

Because he is surprisingly numb right now after all the excitement earlier. It’s like someone’s pulled the plug on him. And he knows why it is. Louis is being distant right now. 

 

During the performance, he was looking at Harry like he was the best thing he’d ever seen. Like Harry was actually giving him life but as soon as he came down from the stage, Louis pulled away.

 

They’re walking along slowly when Louis breaks the silence.

 

“That was brilliant, Haz. You should be on the stage every day.”

 

“Thanks, I guess.”

 

“What? I’m telling you that you should be singing on national telly for like Sony or summat and you’re saying ‘Thanks, I guess’?”

 

He looks up from the road to look at Louis’ face to gauge how serious he is and for the first time he’s noticing his clothes. His black blazer is tailored so well that Harry doubts it’s custom made but paired with a black graphic t-shirt, it looks perfectly casual. His jeans are sinfully tight and Harry bites off a remark about how they do make his arse look glorious. 

 

He misses a step and stumbles but Louis’ arms on his bicep steady him. The contact is searing even through the various layers of clothes and Harry can feel the five shots sloshing around in his belly.

 

“Thank you. I was a bit nervous, Nick gave me two shots before the performance.”

 

“That prick, told you I wouldn’t like him.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I just don’t.”

 

“Did you like the songs?”

 

“I loved the songs, best live band I’ve ever seen. You were born to be on the stage, Hazza.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“You lot were great, even the others. But Susan Boyle is still my favourite singer of all time, you came close but she’s still the best.”

 

Louis steps forward to unlock the door and switches on the lights with a small smile on his face as Harry stumbles in while laughing and trying to keep his balance.

 

Apparently he isn’t good enough because he almost brains himself on the door before Louis rushes to hold him upright. He stumbles backward then – perhaps at the proximity of Louis’ warm body or perhaps thanks to his high blood alcohol level – and Louis goes with him and he somehow ends up against the wall.

 

His back is pinned to the wall and Louis is pressed against his front – chest to thighs. He feels a sudden rush of want and need take over his senses. Louis’ breath is tickling his face and his fingers are digging into Harry’s hip.

 

He wants Louis to lean in so badly.

 

He can feel Louis’ scruff on his chin and his lips are almost touching Harry’s. They’re breathing in each other’s air and it stinks of alcohol but he wants the taste of those lips against his own.

 

He wants Louis’ fingers digging in deeper into his hip, so deep that they leave bruises on his skin.

 

He feels Louis’ thigh move against his crotch and he feels like he’s going to come just from this.

 

Niall’s voice rings sharp in his head.

 

‘We’re just afraid that no one’s looking out for Liam.’

 

‘Liam deserves to be told in person.’

 

He pulls his head away just as Louis’ lip touches his cheek, he pulls his head away and his breath is coming in so short he’s almost dizzy. Louis is looking into his eyes with so much hurt that he almost gives in and takes what he wants but he remembers that it’s wrong.

 

“I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t. I want to Lou, oh god do I want to, but we can’t.”

 

Louis stays where he is, his warm breath fanning across Harry’s cheeks and his hand still digging into his flesh. He stays for a second before he pulls his hand away and his breath is gone, his thigh retreats from against his hardness. Harry’s eyes slip closed as a surprised groan escapes his lips, he doesn’t see it but he feels Louis’ lips on his forehead a second later as he leaves a chaste kiss there.

 

“Good night, Harry.”

 

He is there and Harry wants him, needs him. But then he withdraws and in the two seconds that it takes Harry to find some semblance of control and open his eyes, Louis is gone.

 

He lets out a deep breath and slides down along the wall till he hits the ground. The marble floor is cold under him but he doesn’t care.

 

He needs the pain to keep him alert, to keep him from slipping into a coma of oblivion. 

 

He’s done the right thing then why does it feel like he’s cut off his own air supply, like he’s pushed himself off a cliff.

 

Is this what love is supposed to feel like?

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so Louis: http://i3.cdnds.net/13/46/louis-tomlinson-one-direction-japan.jpg
> 
> Harry: http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2013/12/15/article-2524284-1A213DB100000578-699_306x632.jpg
> 
> https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcT0QYQH21gfTQCEAlCO6RtGh_4bKIp1pq4LDcz98Vv30PdXfEy9
> 
> https://31.media.tumblr.com/31feb9171950963a8bce2c12aaf72486/tumblr_mxv830Rka41rmcnl8o6_250.gif
> 
> And the main song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWRsgZuwf_8
> 
>  
> 
> So, why don't ya like me? Tell me one thing you like in this? One thing you don't like? C'mon, I'm still writing the last chapter so I can change things.. Also, I've never asked this before for any of my fics but who'd you like on top? I feel like I should ask this, it could go either way for this story so yeah. Sorry man, that was a weird note. Okay, I'll shut up now.


	6. What's mine is yours to make your own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So some of you will be disappointed and/or angry after this. Just know this, I'll make it better. I promise.
> 
> PS: Title from Look after you - The Fray

He tries getting off the floor and going to his room but it seems like too much effort so he settles for the sofa. With the headscarf off, he doesn’t feel quite so restricted anymore. He doesn’t even bother taking off his jeans or his shirt, he just needs to forget everything as soon as possible and if that means falling asleep in his clothes then so be it.

 

The lights turn off around him when the detectors don’t sense motion for a while. He’s lying haphazardly on the sofa and his neck is definitely going to have a crick tomorrow but nothing matters right now.

 

The look of pain and vulnerability on Louis’ face when Harry pulled back is replaying behind his closed eyelids over and over. At some point, the alcohol does make him pass out. 

 

Next morning finds himself strewn across the sofa and he wakes up when he hears a clinking sound near his ear and finds a tea cup on the table beside his head. When he looks up, he sees Louis’ retreating back as he walks towards the kitchen.

 

Louis.

 

Last night. It did happen.

 

He sits up and rubs his head as if that would relieve any pain and or humiliation from last night. He’s definitely going to get a killer hangover, he thinks. He’s still busy pulling at his hair when Louis settles down on the opposite sofa with his cup of tea and a newspaper.

 

Harry wants to drown in the Thames right now.

 

“Lou, I--”

 

“Don’t.”

 

He’s still looking down at today’s paper which he then neatly folds and sits up. How does he look so good when he was equally plastered last night? Maybe it’s the age.

 

“I get it, Harry. I do. Just don’t bring it up again. Let’s not make it awkward.”

 

“Lou, I didn’t--”

 

“Harry, don’t. Please. I’m going to move out of here before next week but I need to go up to see Mum. She’s been sending me these blackmailing messages and the twins too so I’m going soon by train or I’ll figure something out. And you don’t have to come along but she said she’d like to see you too. I understand if you don’t want to go with me, I can cover for you--”

 

“I’m going with you.”

 

That’s all he can bring himself to say. 

 

The fact that Louis is moving out, it’s just too much to handle especially with the headache he feels coming. Maybe if he just ignores it and denies it, it’ll become untrue.

 

“Well, you don’t look so good so I’ll let you rest. We can go when you’re ready.”

 

“I just need to sleep for a bit but I’ll be fine soon. We can go tonight.”

 

“Whenever you’re ready, Harry.”

 

He gets up and leaves, Harry is left behind looking at this morning’s paper and his empty seat. Wondering if he will ever see Louis drinking tea and reading the paper again. Funny how he never noticed that Louis reads the paper every morning but now that he might be gone, Harry would pay good money just to see him sit at the table and read the paper.

 

He lies back down and groans when his head protests. He wants to stand up and rush to Louis’ room and tell him to stay but he’d be lucky if he could stand up long enough to take a wee right now. 

 

His tea gets cold as he slips back into slumber, still on the sofa. Louis doesn’t wake him up this time.

 

***

 

He’s surrounded by pillows and blankets and it feels like he’s in a pillow fort like the one he and Liam used to make as kids. Liam, ha.   
The reason he has reverted to age seven behavior. 

 

Well anyway, it’s a cocoon of warmth and the marathon of Skins is going brilliantly except for when he had to find food an hour ago and for some reason he didn’t want to go downstairs. He knew Harry would be there, and he wanted to stay as far away from him as possible.

 

His emotions are so conflicting that he’s given himself a whiplash from all the back and forth. 

 

One moment he hadn’t wanted to see Harry again. The next he’d found him on the sofa this morning lying in a rather unconventional position which would definitely hurt his bad back.

 

So he’d proceeded to make him green tea and put it on the table a little too loudly just so it would jerk Harry awake so he could go sleep on his bed or in a more comfortable position at least.

 

The talk that followed was not planned on his part, he’d surprised even himself when he announced that he is moving out. So, now he has to look for a flat. Zayn’s place would work for a week, two maybe but he needs to start looking.

 

And he’s going to see his mum too as it turns out.

 

So anyway, after that tea run in the morning Louis really did not want to go down and find Harry lying on the sofa again but that’s exactly what he’d found about an hour ago. His neck looked painful even from the kitchen but Louis didn’t even go near except when he saw that the tea he left was still there and ice-cold now.

 

Then he felt another wave of anger and frustration rise through him so he just turned around and walked back to his room. 

 

Great plan, except now he’s starving and angry.

 

As much as he wants to wallow in self-pity and become one with the blankets, he needs to eat. So it is basic human instinct which forces him to put on his socks and go downstairs with as little noise as possible.

 

Except Harry is standing at the island looking directly into the lobby so he sees exactly when Louis walks in. He doesn’t say anything - thanks for sparing the feelings - although it might just be his hangover. He doesn’t look so good.

 

Louis shuffles awkwardly before clearing his throat pointedly,

 

“If you’re not feeling well, you don’t have to--”

 

“I’ll be fine once I get some breakfast. Have you eaten?”

 

Louis shakes his head like a chastised child and Harry chuckles before he moves to the fridge to get the eggs out. He’s still wearing last night’s clothes and Louis might have found his religious calling after all. 

 

He takes a seat at one of the stools and rereads today’s paper. If Harry notices, he doesn’t call him out on it. 

 

An hour later, they’re both full and showered and ready for the four hour drive. 

 

Harry reassures him that he’s okay to drive and off they go. 

 

Despite the very clear conversation about not making things awkward, this trip is the most awkward drive he’s ever had. Zayn seems to have woken up finally and wants to know everything. Louis brushes him off by saying that his virtue is intact and that he is going to need a room to live in for at least a week. Zayn stops pestering him for a while.

 

The second Zayn stops texting him, Harry’s phone blows up. He knows it’s Niall completing his best-friend duties but he does wish that those two were at least a little bit subtle. He definitely needs new friends.

 

Harry doesn’t pay his phone any mind and just drives on. 

 

They hardly speak a word to each other the whole way - except for one very awkward conversation where Harry asked him if he was still carrying his gun and Louis told him he hadn’t felt the need to - and just as Louis is convincing himself to share a joke and lighten Harry’s mood, they’re parked in front of his childhood home. 

 

It’s a testament to his discomfort that he completely missed not only when they entered Doncaster but also when Harry drove them through his childhood city and got him home.

 

Harry is sitting silently in the driver’s seat with his hands still gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles must be turning white. Louis takes a deep breath and reaches across to take his hands of the wheel and into his smaller ones.

 

Harry is startled and almost pulls his hands away but Louis holds on anyway. Harry is looking at him with wide, terrified eyes and Louis never wants to see this look on his face again. 

 

“Haz, I know I did something I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry. I never meant for it ruin the friendship that we’ve built in the last two weeks. 

 

It would kill Liam and my mum if they found out we’re not talking to each other. It’s killing me right now and even though we haven’t known each other for that long, it feels like I’ve fought with my best mate and I don’t like it. So just--”

 

“Louis, I am not blaming you for anything. It wasn’t a mist--”

 

"Don’t say it, please. Just don’t. It’s taken me a lot to own up to all this so just listen. Mum wants to see me because she thinks I’m sick. I’m not, you know I’m not. Just talking to you about it all has helped me so much, I haven’t even had a bad dream in a couple nights. I don’t have PTSD, you know it and I need her to believe me so she’ll stop worrying. 

 

Just one night, that’s all I’m asking. Pretend if you have to, but just go back to the way we were. After that, you never have to see me again if you don’t want to. It’s just tonight and a four hour drive back. I’ll be out of the house the minute we get back. Promise.”

 

It sits bitterly on his tongue, the promise. He wants Harry to say something, to stop him. But he’s the one who’s asked him to be quiet. So he shouldn’t be surprised when Harry silently nods his head and takes the key out of the ignition.

 

Just then, he pries two blonde heads bobbing toward the car and he pastes the biggest smile on his face. After getting a mouthful of blonde hair, his mum crashes into him too. He’s surrounded by his girls save Lottie who is apparently too cool to hug her older brother. She does bump his shoulder though so he doesn’t complain.

 

His mum rushes to hug Harry and his chest actually gives a painful tug when they both look so familiar with each other. He turns around and starts running after the twins. Half an hour later, he’s lying exhausted on the floor while the girls put makeup on his face.

 

Harry is giggling from where he’s perched on the sofa and just the sound of that takes the weight off Louis’ shoulders. Harry’s toe is digging into Louis’ calf as he demands his attention and he is just so glad that Harry is finally talking to him like normal that he fails to see the phone Harry’s aimed at his face which takes about a million photos the second Louis opens his eyes.

 

Lottie is laughing next to Harry as Daisy pulls on Louis’ hair while complaining that it isn’t as soft as Harry’s. He closes his eyes and relaxes around these noises he knows as home. His mum wakes him up at some point and directs him to the dinner table where everyone else is already seated.

 

The only empty chair is next to Harry so he plops down unceremoniously, his mum and Harry both chide him at the same time and he just rolls his eyes before stacking his plate with mashed potatoes.

 

He doesn’t even pay attention to it when Harry dumps all his carrots on Louis’ plate and hogs all the beans. It’s like any other meal, they take things off each other’s plates and it’s a good system that works. So he doesn’t give it a second thought when he passes his leftover sausages to Harry after he’s done and too full to move.

 

But when he looks up, he finds his Mum looking curiously between Harry and him while Lottie seems to be sniggering behind her hand.   
Louis just raises his eyebrows at his mum, she keeps staring at Harry’s plate who is happily eating his food in sweet oblivion.

 

Louis doesn’t have time for any more drama today so he just sips on his wine while Harry tells his mum about school. When she asks about his music, Harry’s eyes land on Louis and it’s like they’re both rewinding last night’s events while staring at each other. His mum coughs pointedly and they both snap their eyes away, if they’re both a bit red in the face no one mentions it except Lottie’s pointed throat clearing which they both fail to acknowledge.

 

At the end of dinner, he’s so knackered that he’s almost asleep on his feet. Then his mum announces that he and Harry can both sleep in his and Liam’s old room. He wants to protest but then he figures at least there are two beds, might as well take it.

 

Harry almost carries him up the stairs because god knows he’s not trying at all. But for all his efforts, Harry dumps him on his old, ratty bed like one would dump a pile of dirty laundry.

 

“Am I dirty laundry to you?”

 

“What?"

 

“Dirty laundry, Harold. Am I? To you?”

 

“You’re not making any sense, Lou.”

 

“Yeah well, just a few more hours. Then you’ll be rid of me. Good night, Harry.”

 

As much as wants to reach out and hold his wrist like that second day, he doesn’t. He lets him go and Harry does go. He slips into Liam’s old bed and switches off the bedside lamp.

 

Another sorry reminder that Harry is Liam’s boyfriend.

 

Louis maybe stays awake listening to Harry breathing, learning the sounds he makes and committing them to memory. It’s not like he’s ever going to share a room with him again.

 

His pillow maybe a little wet but he will never admit to it.

 

***

 

Harry is walking around in a haze, it feels like everything is happening to someone else. Louis keeps saying that he will be gone soon but Harry doesn’t want him to leave. He’s not sure he could survive that.

 

And even now, he doesn’t know if Louis is this good of an actor that he’s fooled everyone or if he really does want to go back to the way they were. When Louis puts his beans on one side so Harry can take them, he feels warmth spread through his chest. 

 

He’s never been like this with anyone before, never shared food with anyone. He always takes everyone’s food but he’s never given anyone any of his precious food in return. 

 

So when this goes down, he’s left to wonder if Louis has changed his mind after all. If he will stay now. But when Harry helps him into his bed, Louis says it again.

 

‘I’ll be gone tomorrow.’

 

He hurries back to his bed and turns the lamp off before Louis can see him blinking away tears. He lies still waiting for Louis to fall asleep, to make sure he doesn’t have any bad dreams. If he matches his breaths with Louis’ and just memories his little sniffles and snores, he’s not cheating on anyone.

 

***

 

His mum is smiling wide at him the next day, he’s ignoring her completely and silently sipping at his tea.

 

“Lou?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You really love him, don’t you?”

 

He snorts tea so far that the fridge door has stains on it. His shirt is ruined but his mum is still looking expectantly at him. He doesn’t know what to do. The girls are still asleep and Harry has gone out to get some car supplies before they head back. He’s trapped.

 

“Who?”

 

“I’m not stupid, Louis. Nor am I blind.”

 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

 

“Harry. You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?”

 

He can only stare at her with wide eyes because what is even happening. Harry is with Liam and his mum knows this, she had them over for Christmas.

 

“It’s okay, I think he als--”

 

“Please, stop.”

 

“Lou, it’s alright. Liam wi--”

 

“Exactly. Liam. Harry’s boyfriend, your other son in case you’ve forgotten!”

 

“Listen, he knows as well as I do that love isn’t a conventional thing you chose, it just happens. And I can see that you both--”

 

“Mum, please stop talking.”

 

“Listen to me, Boo. It’s not like you think it..”

 

He hears Harry on the doorstep and in his panic, he gets up and shushes her with a hand on her mouth.

 

“Mum, I’m begging you please stop. I can’t see him pulling away again.”

 

She nods her head and only then does he let go. The subsequent glaring from her would melt him under normal circumstances but right now it doesn’t faze him much as Harry comes in looking surprised. 

 

“What happened to the fridge?”

 

“Louis was practising his aim.”

 

Harry just scoffs and turns around, doesn’t even question it. He goes upstairs to get the small bag they’d brought with their stuff in it. 

 

Louis silences his mother with what he hopes is a warning look. She quietly follows them out and hugs them and sends them off before the twins can wake up and delay their departure.

 

***

 

If he thought yesterday’s drive was awkward, today is even worse. It’s like the potential promise of this being the last hours they spend together is hanging over them the whole way. Louis tries to joke every now and then and Harry chuckles in response but they’re both too busy in their own thoughts to talk.

 

The weather outside isn’t helping much either, light rain drops slide down the windshield and Louis thinks it’s definitely too dark outside for this time of day. 

 

The radio blares on in the background, it gives them both a good reason to not talk. Some bloke is crying about how the girl he loves has left him behind after she found someone better and Louis’ hand is almost on the button to change the channel when the bloke’s screeching stops and a serious voice comes on.

 

“Warning ! It will be a bit windy and will rain moderately for a bit, there may even be some lightning and some hail. Residents should head for the emergency bunkers immediately ! I repeat rain, hail storms and thunder/lightning is battering Leicester county. If you are outside your homes especially on the road, take cover. Get off the highway now!” 

 

Harry is looking at him asking for his permission but everything else aside, Louis does not want to die in a freak weather accident. He points to the sign he sees off to the side of the highway claiming there’s an inn a kilometer ahead. 

 

His outstretched arm grabs at the dashboard in a hurry as Harry speeds up and the car jerks forward. The trees are passing by at an alarming rate and Louis’ heart rate is through the roof. And of course the big dark cloud up ahead doesn’t help, neither does the sound of fist-sized hailstones hitting the roof of the car all of a sudden. 

 

Harry speeds up even more and they nearly miss the turn for the Inn but somehow they’re here parked under some sort of a roof and before he knows it, Harry is taking off Louis’ seat belt and dragging him out of the driver’s side door. His feet haven’t even touched the floor when Harry tugs on his hand and pretty much drags him to the door. They knock but nobody answers, Harry’s hand is pounding on the wood while his other enormous hand is gripping Louis’.

 

Then he starts yelling.

 

“Help! Is anybody in there? We are stuck out here. PLEASE HELP US!”

 

Louis is almost about to tell him to just get back into the car when the door creaks open and a bloke pulls on Harry’s shirt who in turns tugs Louis along. They’re both soaking by now and it’s dark inside, all of the lights off. 

 

“You came in at a good time, just heard news that a car got stuck by lightning on the highway.”

 

Louis can’t help but put his free arm around Harry. It’s not going to protect him or help him in any way, they’re inside now anyways but it’s the thought that he’s got Harry. Just knowing that his arm is around Harry’s waist, Harry squeezes his hand in return that he still hasn’t let go.

 

“Right. Well, we need to stay here for the night I guess. Can we get--”

 

“I’ve only got one room left. But it’s a big bed so.”

 

Harry is looking down at him questioningly and in this instant he looks the 19 years of age he is. Louis frees his hand and pushes himself in front of Harry. 

 

“We’ll take it.”

 

“Alright, well since you’re both wet I’ll let you go to the room now and fill the papers when you leave. Do you have any cash for a deposit, though?”

 

He finds his wallet and hands the bloke £50 and takes the keys from him. No. 17.

 

Harry seems to have gone pliant as he quietly follows Louis and stands just inside the door after he locks it behind himself. Louis is busy taking off his wet shirt and when he turns around, Harry is staring at his chest but he looks away suddenly. 

 

With his eyes fixed on the ground, he just stands there.

 

“What are you waiting for? Your clothes are wet and you’re going to catch a fever if you don’t take them off.”

 

He takes off his shoes and socks followed by his wet jeans and jumps under the warm covers.

 

“Look, just take them off and get under the quilt. It’s pretty warm and the bed is huge, you can take the other side.”

 

Harry turns around shyly and starts peeling off his shirt - insecurity clear in his slow hands, like he’s not ripped and absolutely beautiful, Louis thinks. 

 

He sinks lower under the quilt and digs his heels into the warmth before closing his eyes and turning on his side. With the lights off and the dark clouds outside, it’s dark inside too. The occasional flash of lightning reminds him that it’s bad weather outside.

 

Harry shuffles the quilt slightly and slips in. He’s so far away on the bed that Louis can’t even feel him.

 

Good thing.

 

He’s lying in the dark listening to the rhythm of hail outside and every once in a while, a flash of lightning reminds him that he’s not alone. He falls asleep surrounded by warmth.

 

***

 

Flashes of lightning illuminate the room every few minutes and it’s beautiful. He’s lying in a half-awake state that makes him question the reality of everything. Is this happening? Is this a dream? He’s naked in a bed with Louis, why is his mind torturing him like this? But maybe it’s not a dream.

 

Louis is right beside him, his eyelashes are so long. He’s almost too beautiful to look at and the recurrent flash of light makes him even more so. Harry feels so isolated right now, like Louis is the only person in the world and they’re in a bubble somewhere, no one can see them or hear them.

 

He lifts his hand to touch Louis’ face, make sure he’s real.

 

This feels like a dream. He closes his eyes and tries to memorize this moment so he’ll never forget. Even after Louis is gone.

 

***

 

Harry’s looking at him through half-lidded eyes as his dark lashes brush against red cheeks. He lifts his hand to touch the dark blush and Harry’s lips fall open on a silent gasp. His skin is burning under Louis’ touch and he arches into it. The motion makes his hips move and stutter against Louis’ crotch and it’s the most beautiful sensation, his own eyes slip shut as a shudder runs down his spine.

 

The sound that escapes Harry’s lips makes him lean up and move his hips against Harry. He’s never seen anyone so responsive, Harry is absolutely wrecked and Louis hasn’t even taken off his clothes yet.

 

He reaches forward and tugs at his curls and a slow moan rips out of ruby lips, Harry squirms in his lap and Louis thinks he might just come from this alone. His hips grind up against Harry’s cock and he’s whimpering. Whimpering.

 

Jesus Christ. He is so sensitive and Louis is going to wreck him.

 

“Please, Lou.”

 

His voice is rough, like it was that day when he was singing in the club and Louis had wanted to take him to a stall so badly. Or maybe just pin him down to the stage while everyone watched.

 

His hips move on their own at the memory and Harry rewards him with another moan. He’s biting through his lip because heavenly friction against his jeans, wait. Jeans?

 

He’s not wearing jeans.

 

His eyes fly open to find a dark room and Harry plastered to his front in bed, naked.

 

It takes him a second to remember where they are.

 

Harry grinds back against him and he has no control over his body anymore. Harry’s head is resting on his left arm and it’s a weird angle but he bends it anyway to reach around Harry and finally touch his skin. He sucks in a sharp breath against Louis’ hand as it gently skims his skin over his navel.

 

He brings his other hand to rest on Harry’s hip and squeezes just a little bit, Harry pushes back against him.

 

His boxers are in the way and it takes some skill but he shucks them off without taking his hands off Harry.

 

His hardness against naked, flushed skin while his fingers dig into Harry’s hip as he pushes back even more insistently – he might just die today.

 

“Harry…”

 

That’s all he can bring himself to say as his hand moves up Harry’s chest, leaving goosebumps and heated skin behind. He can feel Harry’s stuttering breaths under his fingers as he lifts his hand to his neck.

 

This feels like a surreal memory, a phantom illusion that he has imagined in his mind. Is this real? 

 

Louis’ never been with someone who moans like Harry, his legs are trembling slightly and he’s gasping loudly as Louis slips his cock between his thighs. The moment he pushes forward, Harry clenches his thighs tight and a filthy moan fills the deafening silence. He’s not sure who it was.

 

He moves his hips slowly and grinds again just as his fingers wrap around Harry’s throat. Gentle enough that he won’t choke him but tight enough that there will be marks. Harry hiccups beautifully the moment Louis tightens his hand for a second before letting the pressure off again.

 

Harry is moving along with him and his breath stutters as Louis pushes his hips forward and his wet cock slides in the tight heat of Harry’s thighs. He leans forward a bit and drags his scruff against Harry’s shoulder and he loves the delicate little noises he’s making underneath him as his mouth moves against the already sensitive skin between his shoulder blades.

 

“Ah!”

 

Harry’s a fan of bruising grips, it seems. When Louis tightens his fingers on Harry’s hip and pushes forward, Harry gasps and lets out a whine that echoes around the dark room. He moves his hand from Harry’s hip to wrap it around his cock, his hand moving in rhythm with his own cock slipping into Harry’s thighs. He hiccups every now and then and it’s the filthiest sound Louis’ ever heard.

 

His stills his hand on Harry and a needy whine reverberates in the silence followed by a labored hiccup,

 

“Lou, please…”

 

His thumb moves punishingly slow against his head and stops on top of his slit and then his hand is covered in warmth as Harry trembles in his arms and cries out when Louis moves his hand down Harry’s length once more.

 

His thighs clench painfully tight around Louis’ cock and his eyes slip closed as he comes undone and makes a mess between Harry’s legs. He slips his hand off Harry’s neck as his breath leaves him boneless.

 

It’s dead silent in the dark room.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was not born to write smut so apologies for that laughable attempt at it. Would you still talk to me?


	7. Don't let me go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, apologies are in order for being a lazy arse and leaving you all hanging. But get ready for super-long chapters now, also major angst-fest. You might not like me very much after this but well, the end is nigh!

He is lying on his side facing the draped windows as a flash of light illuminates the room. It’s silent, eerily so. It’s almost like he’s alone in the room, Louis’ breath has evened out and he’s probably sleeping next to him but Harry doesn’t dare to turn around.

 

Another flash of lightning kindles the room and he moves his hand to the quilt tangled around his ankles to bring it and that’s when he feels the stickiness between his thighs. 

 

Cheater.

 

He sits up abruptly and pulls his legs apart to stop feeling the wetness but it’s still there. His stomach is a mess too, his butterfly tattoo covered almost completely. 

 

Infidel.

 

He gets up from the bed and starts walking toward where he knows the bathroom is. Without turning around he listens for any sounds from Louis - nothing but steady breathing.

 

He rushes into the shower and stands under the scalding spray to punish himself. If he scrubs hard enough, if he just scratches enough maybe he’ll wash away the traces of his infidelity.

 

His skin is turning a familiar shade of red that it does when he takes a hot shower, only this time the water is close to boiling but he bites on his lip to stop himself from making any noises as the searing stream of water cascades down his shoulders and onto his stomach to wash away the evidence of his adultery. 

 

Betrayer.

 

An angry red mark appears on his collarbone and another one just below, blisters forming on his arms as he scrubs violently at his hip trying to erase the bruises Louis’ fingers left there. The marks get darker as his fingers scratch at them. 

 

Liar.

 

He pulls his hands away from his hip and just stands under the stream with his head bowed, as his tears mix with the water. His skin has gotten used to the scalding water now and he feels like he needs more pain to remind him of what he’s done. The water won’t get any hotter.

 

He climbs out of the shower and scrubs the hotel towel against his skin, it stings a bit. His skin has always been very sensitive, hot showers always leave red marks but this time his whole body is an angry red colour. He can still feel a phantom touch of Louis’ fingers around his neck though. 

 

He silently walks back to the room and puts on his clothes which are dry to the touch by now. Louis is still sound asleep as Harry tiptoes to the door and slips out. The hallway is silent and no one is around as he walks toward the main desk merely on muscle memory. The lad behind the desk looks up when Harry walks toward him, he hands him a £50 note and signs on the register where the bloke points. 

 

He doesn’t look up at him as he signs his name but the lad breaks the silence anyway, not catching onto his mood.

 

“The storm’s stopped now but most guests haven’t woken up yet.”

 

He still doesn’t look up.

 

“Your friend still asleep then? You can drive out now, if you want. The radio said it’s okay to be on the highway.”

 

He looks up for the briefest second while handing him back the pen.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Harry doesn’t look back as he walks toward the main door of the inn and steps out, it’s a bit dark out but the rain and hail have stopped. He walks to his car and slips in silently pulling his shirt tighter around himself. 

 

He settles in the driver’s seat, wet curls flopping onto his forehead as he leans his head against the seat rest. Memory of fingers in his hair pulling at the curls roughly makes him sit up. 

 

Adulterer.

 

He sighs into the silence of the empty car and slips his eyes shut.

 

Fingers on his hip hold on tightly and leave bruises behind as a shallow breath is released and small puffs of air hit his ear, wet lips move agonizingly slow over the earlobe.

 

A flash of lightning strikes just as he opens his eyes to get away from the images behind his closed eyelids.

 

He sits alone in the car with his eyes open for hours, trying to erase memories that seem to have been etched in his soul. Louis’ touch and his smell and the sounds escaping him keep coming back to him every second and he feels like he is going to lose his mind any moment now.

 

It feels like he’s been touched for the first time.

 

Like no one’s ever going to measure up now.

 

No one’s hands are ever going to leave him as wrecked.

 

No one’s ever going to make him come undone again.

 

***

 

He’s still shivering from his orgasm, still hasn’t come down from his high and it’s been five minutes. His calves ache and his thighs need to be flexed, he needs to stand up and stretch but he doesn’t dare break the perfect silence in the room. 

 

His toes are curled still because he doesn’t want to let go just yet. 

 

His fingers feel empty, clenching around thin air after holding onto hot skin for so long. 

 

He wants to lean over and hold him but Harry is facing away from him and his back is arched in defensively. Louis wants to reach out so bad, to pull him in and to hold him but a heavy weight is settling in his gut with every passing second.

 

‘Betrayer’

 

He turns around and faces the other side of the room as the voice in his head takes over his thoughts.

 

‘He brought you into his house. Invited you to stay. He worships you and you slept with his boyfriend. Good job, Louis.’

 

He closes his eyes and lets the voice talk, doesn’t muffle it this time.

 

‘Was it worth it? A cheap fuck in a hotel in the middle of nowhere? Are you satisfied now?’

 

His eyes snap open as he pries some movement behind him but he doesn’t move, keeps his breath steady and a moment later Harry is walking toward the bathroom. The room is dark enough that he can’t see Harry completely but can see his back retreating into the bathroom without turning around even for a second. The shower starts running after a second.

 

‘He’s washing away the filth you left on him. You’re nothing more than an easy fuck.’

 

A stray tear slips out of his eye and rolls down onto the pillow. He blinks furiously to stop anymore but another one escapes and another one till it’s a steady stream and the pillow feels a little wet under his cheek.

 

‘A quick fuck. That’s all you are, like a cheap whore.’

 

He bites down on his hand to stop any sound from escaping even though he feels like shouting out his frustration. 

 

The shower turns off and Harry walks out with a towel slung low on his hips. Louis thinks he’ll forgive and forget everything if Harry slips into bed again. His whole body seems to be on fire as he silently awaits the bed to dip down slightly. 

 

It doesn’t.

 

With his eyes clamped shut forcefully and his teeth biting down on his hand, he misses the ruffling of clothes behind him.

 

A couple of minutes later, he hears shoes padding on the carpet of the room, then Harry’s back comes into view - he’s fully dressed. 

 

Louis’s stomach drops and an involuntary whimper bubbles up his throat at the sight but he bites down harder and stops it from leaving his lips.

 

Harry opens the door and slips outside. It feels like someone has stabbed him in the chest and waited for a good moment before pulling out and driving in again just to be sure. 

 

He removes his hand from between his teeth and rubs at the line of drool and spit helplessly as the tears stream down onto the pillow. He can’t hold in the sobs anymore, it sounds like a puppy whimpering in the room but he can’t stop the noises anymore. He doesn’t care anymore.

 

‘He left you behind like a tart. Washed himself clean of any evidence of you and then dressed up and left.’

 

He curls in on himself and brings his knees up to his chest so he can lie on his side, make himself small just like he feels right now. He knows Harry would never think like this, he knows but what else can he believe right now?

 

‘Left you, didn’t he? Still in bed. You should check if he’s left you shag money.’

 

A violent sob wreaks through him and his body trembles as he remembers the look on Harry’s face when he’d leaned in to kiss him after the gig. 

 

The loud ring of his phone startles him out of the daze he’s in. He jumps up from the bed and runs to where he can see the faint light of his phone. It’s Harry, he tells himself.

 

It’s him, he’s calling to apologize for leaving. 

 

It’s not Harry.

 

Aiden. 

 

He doesn’t pick up. Putting the phone down by his pillow, he lays down in the fetal position again and starts rocking back and forth.

 

‘You’ll never go back to the way it was again. You’ll never see him laughing at your jokes again with his head thrown back, slapping his knees. You’ll never see him with glassy eyes as he talks about his sister and his mum. Never see him looking at you like you’re everything. And all because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.’

 

The phone rings again and he picks up without checking.

 

“Louis?”

 

“Aiden.”

 

That’s all he can bring himself to say. There’s so much he could say, so much he had to say to Aiden after he’d left Louis heartbroken two years ago but none of that matters now.

 

“Lou? Are you okay?”

 

“Aid.”

 

“Hey, what’s wrong? I ran into Niall today - Zayn's boy - he was pissed at me a bit but he said you’re back from duty so I thought I should check in. You don’t sound so good, what’s wrong Lou?”

 

“It’s all wrong.”

 

“Lou, where are you? Let me come get you.”

 

“No, I’m away.”

 

“Away where? I could drive to--”

 

“Why?”

 

“Why? You’re my mate, Lou. Whatever happened between us, it doesn’t change the fact that we’re mates and I still care about you. Just tell me where you are, I promise I‘ll come.”

 

“You left me.”

 

“I was a fool, Louis. I’m a fucking fool for hurting you, but we can talk about that later. Just tell me where you are.”

 

“Leicester.”

 

“Oh, well I’m in Nottingham so I can drive down. Where exactly?”

 

“It’s an inn off the highway. Aid, why are you--”

 

“Grafton House? That’s the one off the highway, I think. Well, I’m driving there now.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Louis, we can have this discussion when you’re not fucking crying. I can hear you, y’know. Just hold on, I’m driving there now.”

 

“Aiden, am I so bad? Is that why everyone leaves, my dad and you and now Harry. I must be really fucking annoying, that kid should’ve just shot me while he--”

 

“Lou, shut the fuck up. I’m coming there now, just hold on.”

 

He’s got nothing to say, he hangs up. Aiden calls again but he doesn’t bother picking up. After the third time, he gives up and doesn’t even check if it’s Harry. He‘s probably gone by now.

 

His hand hurts a little from where he was biting down on it but he guesses the pain is a good reminder of everything he’s done wrong. Betrayed Liam’s trust, messed up everything with Harry. 

 

Basically, fucked up everything he had. He ruins everything he touches, got his mates killed in Afghanistan and now ruined his brother’s life. Aiden was right in leaving him before he wrecked him too.

 

And now he’s coming here to to help him again. After everything they’ve been through, he’s now offered to come and help Louis. After he left him broken and alone years ago.

 

‘At least he didn’t treat you like a whore.’

 

The voice in his head needs to shut up. 

 

‘It is true, though. Whatever he did, he never treated you like a slag.’

 

He can’t stop the sob that rips through him as Harry’s tense back come to mind just as he was slipping out of the dark room, leaving Louis behind. He brings his hand up to his mouth and bites down again. Maybe he draws blood, but at least his teeth digging into his flesh make the desperate sounds stop. 

 

Aiden crashes through the door with a loud smack and rushes to the bed and finds him rocking back and forth in a fetal position. All Louis feels is a dip in the bed - and this small hopeful, optimistic part of him hopes that it’s Harry - and a hand comes to rest on his shoulder and squeezes gently,

 

“Lou?”

 

It’s not Harry.

 

“Louis? Are you okay?”

 

He doesn’t want to move but the warmth of a hand on his bare skin, the promise of comfort belies his sorrow and he turns and curls himself around Aiden. His arms go around Aiden’s middle as he buries his head in his soft jumper, Aiden’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder before he moves it to card his fingers through Louis’ soft hair.

 

He doesn’t know how long Aiden lets him cling to himself but it’s familiarity, it’s comfort that he feels. The pain is still raw, the abandonment still fresh but at least this feels like a familiar comfort. It’s been years but he still remembers Aiden’s touch.   
He was the only man Louis ever saw long-term. The only person Louis ever trusted enough to let him in.

 

Before Harry.

 

“Lou, let’s get you home, yeah?”

 

He doesn’t move, Aiden’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder and he caresses softly.

 

“Hey, let me get you some clothes and I’ll drive us back. Then you can sleep in all day, I know how much you love to do that.”

 

Aiden maneuvers himself around Louis and leaves him on the bed as he gathers up his discarded clothes, but he’s back in a second and making him sit up as he pulls the shirt across his chest.

 

“Lou, what have you done to yourself? I’m so sorry, love.”

 

Louis doesn’t have the energy to tell him it’s not his fault. It’s not his fault that Louis didn’t learn the lesson the first time and managed to fall even harder the second time.

 

He never loved Aiden.

 

He knows this. 

 

Not like he has loved Harry.

 

What he had with Aiden was a shared comfort. It was warmth that he could come back to after classes all day, it was familiarity and it was trust he placed in someone other than blood. It was hurtful when that trust was betrayed.

 

With Harry, he has fallen so far that he’s forgotten himself. Lost himself so much that he betrayed his own brother. Gone head over heels and now he can’t get back up. It’s ended up wrecking him.

 

Aiden has to support him with an arm around his waist because he can’t even stand up straight right now. After barfing all his food just as Aiden had made him stand up, he’s got no energy left. His body has given up on him and his brain never was much of an ally.

 

Harry’s done what Aiden couldn’t that first time. 

 

Harry’s ruined him.

 

***

 

He jerks awake when a loud rumbling sound echoes around him. Blearily opening his eyes, he realizes he had fallen asleep in his car parked outside the inn. It’s light out now, the day just beginning as another flash of lightning makes him startle with a loud noise.   
It takes a moment but he does finally realize why he’s sleeping in his car on the side of a highway.

 

Louis.

 

He’s had bad experiences in life, moments where he thought he’s never felt worse. So he recognises the sadness that swoops up through him. But never has he ever felt like his heart was dropping into his stomach and down to his toes. 

 

He rushes out of the car and goes back into the inn to find the room dark and empty.

 

Louis’ not in bed like he’d left him.

 

His clothes are gone as well and if he felt nervous and sad before, this definitely feels like someone’s just pushed him off a cliff and he’s just falling with no sight of land under his feet.

 

He hurries back out to the reception and looks around for the lad who comes out of a room to the left with his arms full of towels.

 

“Hey, have you seen Louis? The man I came in with? He’s not--”

 

“Yeah, he left a little while ago. Didn’t look too good, but there was another lad with him. Had to proper hold him up and such. I thought they were going to you--”

 

“This other lad? What’d he look like?’

 

“Dunno, nothing special really. Just a normal bloke, tall and had like brown hair. I didn’t--”

 

“Okay, thanks.”

 

He rushes out to his car and looks around but finds no trace of another car or of Louis anywhere. In his blind panic he dials Zayn as he’s running toward his car. He picks up on the third ring even though it’s quite early in the day,

 

“‘lo?”

 

“Zayn, it’s Harry. Listen, do you know where’s Louis? He was with--”

 

“I thought he was with you?”

 

“He was, but something happened and I left him for a little while--”

 

“I thought you were in Donny, what the fuck happened?”

 

“There was a storm and we had to stop in a hotel for the night and--”

 

“Jesus, are you alright?”

 

“Well, I left him in the room and fell asleep in my car for a bit and now he’s not there. The lad--”

 

“What the fuck do you mean he’s not there? Where is he, then?”

 

Zayn’s pretty much yelling at him and maybe it’s that or maybe his own helplessness but he has to cradle the phone between his shoulder so he can bring up his hand to rub at his face at the tears rolling down his cheeks. 

 

“I don’t know, the lad at the desk said someone came and got him.”

 

“Well, it wasn’t me and it wasn’t Niall, I can’t think of anyone else--”

 

“He said it was a tall bloke with brown hair. I didn’t see--”

 

“Tall bloke, brown hair? It couldn’t--”

 

He hears shuffling behind him and Niall’s sleepy murmurs. Zayn’s irritated voice flitters over the phone as he talks to Niall.

 

“What?”

 

“-ran into him yesterday and he asked after Lou so I told him he was back.”

 

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

 

“He looked sad, Zee. Said he wanted to say sorry.”

 

“You can’t go around trusting everyone, Ni. I’ve told you so many times, babe don’t just--”

 

As much as he cares for his mates, he needs to find Louis and not listen to their domestic arguments right now.

 

“Zayn, could you tell me first? I’m kind of in the middle--”

 

“Listen Harry, he’s gone with Aiden. I think you--”

 

Panic claws up his chest and he feels claustrophobic all of a sudden. The wind billowing through the open window does nothing to relieve the tension building up in his chest.

 

“Aiden? Not his ex-boyfriend, Aid--”

 

“Yeah, listen you should drive home. I’m going to go over and check on Louis, bring him back to ours.”

 

“No, I can go with you. Just tell me where he lives. I have to--”

 

“Harry, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You should go home. I’m--”

 

“Zayn, I have to see him. We’ve got, I need to speak--”

 

“Okay, I’m only going to say this once. You go home, I’m bringing Lou back here and then I’ll come get his stuff from your house. Everything else will have to wait.”

 

He’s pulling off the road as Zayn keeps saying these things that get worse and worse with every word out of his mouth. Harry kills the engine and sits there with his hand scrubbing his face while the other one clutches the phone desperately.

 

“You can’t do that. I--”

 

“I can and I fucking am. You’ve played this game of cat and mouse long enough and now he’s driven off with the person who’s the reason he hasn’t dated anyone in years and why he fucked off to Afghanistan! So don’t tell me I fucking can’t!”

 

He can’t even keep his head up anyone, his forehead falls onto the steering wheel as Zayn’s words pierce through every last shred of control he has left. Niall is yelling at Zayn in the background and he wants Niall right now, to hold him as he cries into his best mate’s shoulder. 

 

He wants someone to hold him. His vision is blurring around the edges and the sound of a passing truck’s horn is a sweet hum that turns into a deafening roar within seconds and he recognizes this as a sign of an oncoming panic attack.

 

It’s been a while since he had one but he remembers the signs still.

 

“You can’t yell at him, it’s not his fault! He’s also struggling--”

 

“Yeah well they’re both fucking this up. And Motherfucking storms, I bet they fucked and then Harry left him and now he’s fucked off into Aiden’s arms. You’ve done a great job of telling him about Louis and now that prick is taking advantage of him, I bet. Bang-up job you’ve all done so far, so don’t tell me what I can and can’t do!”

 

“Zayn, you have to calm down. I--”

 

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down! I saw him lying half-dead for days, starving himself after that arsehole fucked off and left him. I was there to pick the pieces so excuse me if I want to avoid that again.”

 

“I know, Zee. I know, but we can’t put all the blame on--”

 

“Oh, I’m not putting the blame on anyone. It’s my own fucking fault for not dragging him out of that house the first time I saw him looking at Harry like he was the fucking sun. I should’ve dragged him out then!”

 

“Harry’s not--”

 

“He’s in the middle of fucking nowhere now telling me he wants to talk to Louis. Over my fucking dead body! And Liam, we’ll have to deal with that when he gets back, what’re you going to tell him, huh? I told you we had to sort this out, Niall. I told you.”

 

“Let’s go get Louis first, then we can talk about everything else. Wait, is your phone still on? Oh my fuck--he’s heard everything! Hello, Haz? You still there?”

 

He croaks out a small hello. 

 

“Harry, oh my god. I’m so sorry, Hazza. Zayn’s just angry at me, and I’m sorry for telling Aiden but I thought he wanted to apologize. I was--”

 

“Get off the phone, we have to go get Lou. Tell Harry to drive straight home and tell him you’ll go see him. Stay the night, whatever, he needs someone there. But Louis is coming back with me, that’s not negotiable.”

 

Zayn’s talking with a finality in his voice that Harry’s never heard before, and he doesn’t want to see his face right now but just thinking of Louis makes all those reservations disappear. He’s trying so hard to breathe in and out slowly like his mum used to help him do during an attack. When he finally finds his voice, it’s small and frail.

 

“Niall, please. Can I just see him once? Please, Ni.”

 

“Hazza, I--I want you to but Zayn is right. You need to get home, I’ll be waiting for you when you do. And we can spend a quiet day in. Then you can see him tomorrow--”

 

“I’m not letting those two around each other unless I’m there too.”

 

Zayn’s angry voice cuts in through Niall’s hushed reassurances and Harry can only close his eyes as tears rush down his cheeks.

 

“Niall, please. I can’t…”

 

“Jesus, Haz don’t talk like that. Please, come on love it’s for both of you. You’ll--”

 

He’s sitting with his back to the car’s tire with closed eyes as he lets Niall’s calm voice wash him over but then a shock runs down his spine when the quiet tone is cut off by Zayn’s sharp voice.

 

“Listen Harry, mate, I know you want to see him but it’s better for both of you if you stay away for a bit. Aiden’s, he--he’s not someone Lou should be around especially if you and him…”

 

He lets the words trail but Harry can’t bring himself to fill in any blanks. Zayn gives him a moment but when he doesn’t say anything, he just continues.

 

“He’s vulnerable right now and so are you, just think of Liam, yeah? I’m sorry for being an arsehole about this but I’m doing what’s best for both of you. So please, just drive home and Niall will be there. I’ll bring Louis back here and make sure he’s okay. You can see him tomorrow, I promise.”

 

He knows Zayn is not going to give in. Niall’s voice comes through the phone but Harry’s drained, he’s got no energy left to fight anymore.

 

“Haz? I’m waiting for you, alright? We’ll go for a walk around the park and--”

 

He disconnects the call and leans back against the car. His clothes are mussed up and sitting down in dirt on the side of the road with his back to his car, he’s sure he looks like a right mess. 

 

Just as another wave of guilt and worry rises through him, he hangs his head between his knees and starts breathing through his mouth.

 

Somehow, he picks himself up and dusts off his clothes, still breathing slowly through his mouth. He brings his hands up to scrub at his face roughly and jumps into the car and starts driving toward London.

 

Adamantly he keeps wiping away the tears that won’t stop falling, even though his skin hurts when he rubs at it roughly. His boiling shower this morning has left bruises all over him which don’t hurt actively but every time he shifts this way or that, they itch. As much as he tries to tune out the errant thoughts running through his mind; as much as he tries to not think of Louis’ face from days ago when Harry had pulled back from him, he can’t. The image of Louis’ tiny form buried under the quilt in that dark room is plastered behind his eyelids and he can’t get away from it. 

 

If he’s honest, he doesn’t know how he’s managed to drive back without having another attack. It’s irresponsible of him to be driving when he’s in a compromised emotional state but he doesn’t think he could’ve sat at the side of the road all day.

 

Niall is perched on the front steps and the image takes him back to the day he’d found Louis in a similar position - leaning against the door with a blanket pulled tight around him and running a high fever. It breaks something in him, some kind of barrier that he’d erected between himself and a complete loss of control over anything.

 

He almost falls to the ground the second the memory of Louis sitting there comes to him but before he hits the dirt, Niall’s arms circle around him and they’re on the path leading to the front door right now - Harry clinging to Niall as he whispers reassurances to him. He moves Harry inside and tucks him into bed and climbs in after him. He feels too dizzy to do anything himself, his limbs too heavy to move anyway.

 

He does finally fall asleep, surrounded by warmth as Niall cards his fingers through his curls and tells him everything will be alright. In a half-asleep state, he can’t tell if the fingers in his hair belong to Louis or not but he calls out his name anyway. It’s cold and he trembles a bit but Louis’ there to hold him tighter.

 

Louis is here.

 

Niall had slipped in a sleeping pill in the water he gave Harry so he’s sure the lad won’t wake up anytime soon and start crying. Or having another attack. 

 

It was heartbreaking to see the boy sitting on the bed with his knees drawn up to his chest and his long arms hugging his frame while he breathed in like he couldn’t get enough air. Niall had only heard Harry mention panic attacks from his childhood but it was daunting to find him in that position when he’d left him alone for five minutes so he could find the sleeping pills he knew Liam kept.

 

He’s known Harry for years and he knows he’s a sensitive person but he’s never seen Harry so broken up over something. For a good hour Niall had held him in bed, he was shivering like a hurt bird and it’d taken all his strength to not give in and call Zayn to get Louis here but he does understand why Zayn is doing what he’s doing. 

 

Plus, Harry needs to be in a better shape before he sees Louis. He’s much too vulnerable right now to be able to make any important decisions. He sighs and pulls Harry tighter to his chest and kisses his forehead before slipping into a fitful slumber himself.

 

***

 

He wakes up to insistent yelling from somewhere close by, he tries going back to sleep but is jerked awake again when Zayn’s angry voice echoes through the room. In his half sleepy state, he looks around confused trying to figure out where he is.

 

This isn’t his tent, it isn’t his room in Liam’s house. Or the hotel room Harry had--

 

Harry.

 

It all comes back in a flash. Harry had left him in the dark hotel room and then Aiden had come and got him. He vaguely remembers Aiden driving while he was curled up in the passenger seat. He remembers Aiden helping him out of a car and helping him into the flat they used to share two years ago.

 

Aiden had made him a cup of tea and heated up left-over curry for him but he hadn’t been able to eat or keep the tea down. The next thing he remembers is Aiden telling him he’s sorry for abandoning Louis and that he’d like to give them another shot. 

 

He remembers falling asleep in the bed they used to share and thinking this is comfortable. This is familiar.

 

He sighs and walks to the kitchen to find Zayn standing next to the fridge where he has Aiden cornered and is currently fuming with his hands dangerously close to Aiden’s face.

 

“--fucking tell me what’s good for him and what’s not! You’re the one that left him when he needed someone the most so don’t you motherfucking tell me what’s good for him!”

 

“You’re not listening to me, I’ve changed. I apologized to him and I will again, everyday if I have--”

 

“Don’t throw all that cheesy bullshit at me, alright? He might buy into it but I’ll be damned if I let him anywhere near you again! Go play this game with someone else, he’s not in love with you, he never was!”

 

“Listen, this Harry--”

 

“You stay the fuck away from both of them, you hear me? I will break your legs if you so much as--”

 

“Zayn, just listen to me mate, please. I--”

 

“I am not your mate, you lost that right when you hurt my best mate. He doesn’t want to be with you. Him and Harry have some issues but--”

 

He’s heard enough. 

 

As much as he agrees with Zayn about most things, he can’t agree where Harry’s concerned. He’s hurt himself enough by falling for Harry and he’s not going to make the same mistake of giving someone so much power over himself again so he intervenes before Zayn makes any permanent damage.

 

“I do. Want to move back here.”

 

***

 

He’s sitting quietly as Zayn is driving rather recklessly -even more so than usual - while glaring at the road as if it’s personally offended him. He hasn’t uttered a single word since leaving Aiden’s flat. 

 

After his admission that he wanted to live with Aiden, everyone had gone silent. They’d just stood there in the tiny flat staring at each other till Zayn had huffed a breath and started walking toward him.

 

“Fine. You can do whatever you want tomorrow. Today, you’re coming with me.”

 

He hadn’t even got a word in before Zayn was gripping his bicep and pulling him out the door. He hadn’t even let him put on shoes. Aiden hadn’t protested.

 

So now he’s sat in Zayn’s car barefeet and shivering from the mere cold shoulder Zayn is giving him.

 

“Z, it’s not how you think--”

 

His words die on his tongue when Zayn turns the slightest bit with narrowed eyes that make him curl into the seat instinctively. 

 

He tries again when they get closer to Zayn’s flat,

 

“I know what I’m doing. He’s--”

 

Zayn speeds up around a turn and Louis has to reach out his hand to grab the handle overhead just to stop his head from going through the window. Before he can start talking again, Zayn parks in front of his building and slams the driver side door before Louis can even take off his seat belt.

 

He rushes in after Zayn, the marble is cold under his feet so he has to stand on his toes and heels as Zayn opens the flat door. It’s dead quiet inside. 

 

He almost asks where’s Niall but then he remembers that he’s probably with Harry.

 

Harry.

 

Zayn walks straight to the fridge and gets a beer out before settling down on the huge sofa in the middle of the flat. For the first time, Louis doesn’t know what to do around his best mate.

 

“Zayn, I know what I am doing. I think--”

 

“Oh you do, do you? Then why did you fuck your brother’s boyfriend? You did fuck him, didn’t you?”

 

Zayn’s always been someone who says exactly what he thinks and that’s why they’ve always gotten along so well. There have been times in their friendship where Zayn’s surprised him or even shocked him a handful of times. 

 

But never has Louis physically flinched away from his best mate because the bitter words were directed at him. 

 

“I...”

 

“Did you? Is that what he’s having panic attacks about?”

 

“He’s--what?”

 

“Fine now, Niall’s with him. Just freaked out ‘cuz he thought you were gone. So, what’re you going to do now, then?”

 

“I just, I don’t know.”

 

He sits down next to Zayn but keeps quite a bit of distance between them. He thinks Zayn might move away if he tries to sit closer, and with everything else that’s happened he couldn’t take that rejection from his mate.

 

“Well, here’s the thing. You can either come clean to Liam and sort this mess up with Harry. Clearly, you’re in love with him. So, you could give it a chance.”

 

“Or?”

 

“Or you can go back to that arsehole and you’ll never see me again.”

 

“Zayn--”

 

“Make your choice, mate. I’m not sticking around for round two. Watching you kill yourself once was enough for me.” 

 

“I think he has changed. We had a chat and he apologized.”

 

“Is that enough then? For abandoning you, is that enough?”

 

“We all make mistakes, Zayn.”

 

“What about Harry then?”

 

He knew this was coming. He has to look away from the intensity of Zayn’s eyes because he never could lie very well to him.

 

“What about him?”

 

“Okay, let’s play this game then, shall we?”

 

“Zayn--”

 

“This is the lad who’s dating your little brother but who you’ve been making heart eyes at for about a month. A lad you’ve been sharing a house with for just as long and been texting me nonstop to remind you not to fuck him. Also, he brought me to you ‘cuz he wanted to surprise you. After a week of knowing you. And who went did a gig after about a year of turning everything down, just because you asked him to. Same lad that you spent an entire night waiting for outside the front door and then catching a fever. The lad who’s the reason you’re not waking up with nightmares every night. Same lad you’ve fallen so far for that you’ve been killing yourself everyday, same lad--”

 

“Stop.”

 

“Don’t try your fucking excuses on me, Louis. I know you inside out, don’t you fucking dare pretend with--”

 

“What do you want me to say?”

 

“The truth.”

 

He sighs and leans his head back against the sofa. This is it, the moment of truth. He snickers when he remembers how much his mum loves that show, but it ends up being a dry laugh as his eyes slip closed. 

 

Might as well, he thinks.

 

“Truth is I’ve never met someone whose every word and every look is more important than anything I’ve ever had with anyone else. Just having him there, even eating his fucking cubed fruits at the same table was enough some days, even though it was killing me that I couldn’t love him.

 

But I can’t feel like I did when he left me in that room, I refuse to feel like that again. I never let Aiden have so much power over me, and he ended up hurting me so much. And what scares me is that it was nothing compared to what I felt in that room after Harry left. 

 

I can’t live through that again. I couldn’t, knowing that I’ve hurt my brother but also that I gave up everything for this one person and he’s left me behind. 

 

It’s going to be hard. To never touch his skin again after weeks of just reassuring myself by leaning into him whenever I could. So hard to pretend that he doesn’t exist when I’ll probably see him often. Act like I haven’t given him everything already, like every word I ever said to him was a lie. But I’m going to do it because I know that if I have to see his back again as he walks away from me, I know I won’t make it.”

 

Zayn is silent for a while before he feels him leaning in toward Louis and speaking softly,

 

“Lou, why? Why do you keep doing this to yourself? Harry’s--he’s the best lad I know but you two are just in this bad situation…”

 

“I know.”

 

“You’d have worked out if he’d met you first. He’s a top bloke.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“Alright, well I’m going to find food then we’ll watch the United match. After, I’ll pop over to Harry’s to get your stuff.”

 

“Zayn?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Thanks, mate.”

 

“Piss off, Tommo.”

 

“Serious, not joking. I love you.”

 

“Get off me, Niall will have your head if sees you clinging to me.”

 

“No, he won’t. He loves me too much, he’d probably cling to me in return.”

 

“He would. You’ve just come in like a whirlwind and he’s taken to you so soon. I’m glad you two get along so well, though.”

 

“You found a good one, Zayn. I was worried at first, thought maybe you were getting over Perrie or summat.”

 

“Nah, that one ran it’s natural course and we went our separate ways. Then when Liam and Harry had me over for a round of FIFA, I met Niall. He just, he balances me y’know. Grounds me. And he’s so fucking adorable, I don’t know mate I think he is it for me.”

 

“Happy for you, mate. He’s surely a keeper, also helps that I could ask him to rob a bank and he would gladly follow me.”

 

“I might have to have a chat with him about that.”

 

He leans back into the sofa as Zayn digs through the fridge to find food. Louis can hear him rummaging through cupboards and cursing Niall for eating anything and everything. They end up ordering a pizza and while Zayn’s on the balcony having a smoke in the half-time, Louis lies down and closes his eyes for a moment.

 

Watching footie with Harry had been fun too. Countless matches they’d spent running around the lobby and yelling at the referees for being blind. He’s never going to have that again, he reminds himself.

 

But neither is he going back to Aiden, he’s decided. 

 

Being single is not a flaw or anything, why should he have to be with anyone? Why was it ever Aiden or Harry? Why not neither?

 

Zayn comes in just as he’s silently cursing society’s demented views on people who’re not in relationships at all times. He lifts Louis’ head and puts it into his lap just as the second half starts. They sit around for ages just arguing about who the next manager should be after Moyes finally fucks off. In the middle of the heated discussion, Zayn’s phone starts ringing that he gets up abruptly leaving Louis’ head to bob down onto the sofa uncomfortably.

 

“Wanker!”

 

He calls after Zayn but he doubts he’s even listening since the positively manic grin on his face means it’s Niall on the other end. He closes his eyes and lies back down.

 

‘I wish I’d met him first. I’d never even look at anyone else.’

 

“Get up, fat arse!”

 

“Oi! My arse is very-well proportioned, thank you very much.”

 

“Yeah yeah, perfect-bottom. Just get up, we have to go get your stuff.”

 

“Now?”

 

“Yeah, Niall’s there too and we’ll bring him back, he’s missing me.”

 

“Get your high-school romance out of my face!”

 

“Sorry can’t hear you over Eleanor Calder - grade 9 and Stan Lucas - grade 10 and--”

 

“Fuck off, Bradford Badboi!”

 

“You better not say that in front of Niall.”

 

“If you can hold off on snogging him in front of me, maybe I won’t.”

 

“You’re such a little shit, Louis.”

 

“At your service.”

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill me just yet, there's one more chapter left. Come talk to me?


	8. Baby be with me, so happily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it unless I decide to write an epilogue which I might since I think the ending was a bit abrupt, anyhow. I just wanted to say thank you for being lovely and kind, it was a pleasure writing for you all. 
> 
> Open this in a different tab, you'll know why when the time comes. It'll help you picture a scene: http://hoechl-bear.tumblr.com/post/84580241609/does-anyone-remember-when-liam-said-in-an
> 
> Okay, off you go!

The friendly banter keeps his mind off of what he’s about to do for a little while but the nervous thrum under his skin returns with a vengeance as Zayn starts driving toward the house. He tries to keep Louis occupied but the errant thoughts have returned. 

 

His fingers are shaking as he takes off the seat belt and gets out of the car. Zayn holds the door open for him and he walks in slowly. 

 

He’s not even taken two steps into the door when he gets a mouthful of blonde and a jumping Irishman in his arms. Zayn is practically glaring at him when Louis chances a glance at him, but looks away almost instantly because Zayn is dangerous when he’s angry.

 

“How’re you, Tommo? You had me so worried!”

 

“I’m good, Nialler. Bad day is all.”

 

He pries movement from the corner of his eye, a mop of unruly curls appears from the sofa. Louis can’t force his eyes away, Harry looks like he was asleep on the sofa and has just woken up from their voices. His eyes instantly lock onto Louis’ and it’s so painfully familiar, he struggles but one thought back to yesterday and Louis pulls his gaze away forcefully.

 

“I’m so sorry for telling Aiden, he just looked like--”

 

“We’re going to have a chat about that, Ni. Countless times I’ve told you don’t go around believing just anyone--”

 

“But you were so nice to him when we saw him at the--”

 

“It’s called courtesy, Ni. I hate his guts but I can’t very well beat him up every time I see him, can I?

 

“But you--”

 

“We’ll talk about this at home. Louis, you want to get your stuff?”

 

He looks up from where he’s been staring at the floor. Zayn is looking at him questioningly and Niall’s standing beside him with wide eyes. He doesn’t dare look toward the sofa as he starts walking toward his room.

 

“Harry! I need to talk to you.”

 

When he turns around at Zayn’s assertive tone, he finds Harry standing on the first step with his hand on the stairway railing. At Zayn’s unfaltering stare, he lets go and starts walking toward the lads. Louis rushes toward his room to get his suitcase before this situation gets out of hand.

 

He can still hear their voices floating up to the room.

 

“It’s done, just leave it. Don’t--”

 

“I’m not going to just leave it, you need to listen--”

 

“Look, I’m sorry for yelling at you and for being an arsehole about this but I’ve been in this situation with him before and I’m not letting it happen again.”

 

“Are you comparing me to--”

 

“I’m just looking out for my best mate. And for you, you’re my mate too Harry and I wish I could be here earlier. I’d have driven out to get you if that prick hadn’t taken Louis.”

 

“I know but Zayn, you need to understand that I--”

 

“Harry, please don’t make this harder than it already is. I don’t think it’s a good idea--”

 

He’s rushing down the stairs with suitcase in hand when a loud voice echoes around the lobby, his feet stop moving altogether and his hand flies out to clutch to the railing to keep him from tumbling down the steps.

 

“Will you let me fucking speak?”

 

It’s so different than his usual slow drawl that it takes Louis a moment to associate the rough angry tone with Harry who is looking at Zayn like he could wrangle his neck any second. Louis pulls himself out of the trance and rushes down the stairs just as Harry starts speaking again.

 

“I know you love him but will you let me getting a fucking word in?”

 

Harry’s voice apparently gets deeper when he’s angry, if that’s even possible. 

 

Louis’ never heard him swear. 

 

It actually makes a shudder run down his spine when he hears Harry cursing in an angry tone that is decidedly rougher and more gravelly than usual. When Louis gets a good look at his face and his dark eyes, he finds himself subconsciously clutching the suitcase tighter because angry Harry is scary. Even scarier than Angry Zayn. And Louis is terrified right now.

 

“I owe you so much for taking care of him, and of me but this is between us and I need to talk to him. I’ve just--”

 

“Harry, you need to step back, mate. You’re not going--”

 

A loud crash makes him start and the suitcase slips out of his hand before he can stop it. Harry is breathing rather roughly and there’s glass on the floor next to him. 

 

“I am going to talk to him alone, whether you approve of it or not. If you think that I’m going to just fucking sit here and watch you take him--”

 

“He’s going back to Aiden.”

 

Niall’s soft voice makes everything stutter to a stop around them. Zayn’s looking at Niall with wide eyes, Harry’s mouth is open around unsaid words and Niall is staring at the floor. 

 

In a rather comic moment, they all turn around to look at him and Louis is as lost as he was the day his dad walked out.

 

He wouldn’t believe that someone’s voice could go from an angry roar to a tremble within seconds if he didn’t hear Harry himself. There’s hurt etched deep in his eyes as he stares at Louis.

 

“What?”

 

‘Right. This is it, then.’

 

“I am.”

 

He’s never seen someone with so many expressions spanning across their face at once. Harry’s arm is outstretched as he takes a small step toward Louis. His hand could be touching Louis’ face if he took a few more steps but he stops. With his hand still in the air, he stumbles back a bit. 

 

Louis almost reaches out to steady him but he stops himself.

 

‘Let him go.’

 

He sees Niall pulling Zayn toward the door while Harry’s frozen looking at him with wide eyes and Louis is still looking back at him like always. Always under his pull. 

 

The trance is broken when a door slams shut somewhere behind Harry and he seems to startle out of his daze. He starts walking toward Louis but one step in and something seems to stop him in his tracks. Louis doesn’t know if he wants Harry to keep walking toward him or not.

 

Harry makes the decision for him when he turns toward the kitchen and stands with his back to the island. He is so close and yet neither of them make a move. Louis turns to face him, a couple steps between them. 

 

“Don’t. Please.”

 

“Don’t what?”

 

“Don’t go. You don’t have to leave. I, Liam--he would want you here.”

 

Liam. That’s why Harry wants him to stay.

 

Not because he feels anything. It’s because Liam would want him to stay.

 

“I don’t think he would.”

 

“But I…”

 

“You what?”

 

Say it, please. Just say it. 

 

“This is such a fucked up situation. I wish we could...”

 

“Yeah well, I can’t.”

 

“Please.”

 

“I can’t, Harry. You’ve already wrecked me once, I couldn’t survive it again.”

 

“Louis, please.”

 

Please, what? Just say it, once.

 

“No.”

 

“Just tell me what I have done wrong.”

 

“You made me feel like I was filth, like I was a cheap fuck. Why should I listen to you?”

 

“I had to think of Liam and--”

 

“You won’t even look me in the eye right now and say it wasn’t just a quick fuck.”

 

“I had to leave, Liam--”

 

“I will die if it happens again. Kill myself or summat. Just what do you want me to do?”

 

“Please don’t go.”

 

Why? Why should I stay? You left me.

 

“You have no fucking right to ask that of me!”

 

Harry flinches at his harsh words but he’s still staring at the floor. Louis wants him to look up, he wants to see those green eyes boring into him one last time. He wants Harry to acknowledge him, just once.

 

“Don’t--”

 

“Look at me. Look up at me and tell me you didn’t fall in love with me. Look at me!”

 

“Louis, I...”

 

He’s still staring at the floor. Not acknowledging Louis.

 

“You can’t, can ya? Because you did, just like I fell.”

 

Harry’s next words make the frustration die down, but anger flares through him. 

 

“You can’t go back to him.”

 

How dare he?

 

“Why not? You have no right to tell me what to do after you left me--”

 

“He hurt you, he--”

 

He knows Harry is saying this out of concern but the deflection makes a heavy weight settle in him. Louis can be so bitter when he wants to be, you’d have to sit down just from how deep the words could cut you.

 

“Yeah well, at least he didn’t leave me in a hotel bed in the morning like a two pence whore and then refused to look at me the next day.”

 

“Louis, I didn’t leave--”

 

He can feel bile rising at the back of his throat. His own words sound so wrong on his tongue. Harry’s response makes something dark flare through him. 

 

“Yes, you did. At least he never made me feel cheap. So yes, I can go back to him.”

 

He’s not going back to Aiden but he’s definitely going to make it hurt. If Harry can hurt him then he can return the favour just as well.

 

“But you can’t. I...”

 

“You what?”

 

Just once, say it.

 

Harry is quiet and Louis’ had enough. He reaches down to pick up his suitcase when he feels hands digging into his chest and pushing him back. Looking up, he finds Harry staring down at him with wet eyes as he keeps pushing Louis till his back touches the cold wall behind him.

 

He has to lift his head to look up into Harry’s eyes, he’s just so tall. He’s looking down at him and his hands feel like brands splayed across his chest, searing even through all the layers of clothes. He is so close and Louis just wants.

 

“You can’t go, please. I love you, don’t go. So fucking long, I’ve wanted to touch you - just hold your hand or push my legs against yours without having to think too much. So fucking long, wanted to hold you against myself, pull you into my chest and just breathe, stay like that for days. Every second just trying not to think of how you would feel lying across me with your weight pressing into me, killing myself over how much I want to feel your lips on mine. So fucking long.”

 

He’s standing up only because Harry’s holding him. 

 

“Well, what the fuck are you waiting for?”

 

The words are not even out of his mouth fully when Harry surges forward and stops a breath away from his lips. Louis tries to lean in but Harry’s huge hands stop him as he flicks his eyes up and just breathes on his lips. 

 

His mouth falls open just from Harry’s breath falling on his lips, he stays where he is. It’s soft, so so soft when he finally feels Harry move his mouth against Louis’. It’s almost non-existent. 

 

He has to look up and into Harry’s eyes to make sure that he is there. The second he does meet Harry’s eyes, something breaks between them.

 

Like a snowglobe falling to the floor and shattering a beautiful illusion.

 

Harry pushes his entire body forward and Louis feels every point of contact as it burns through him. Harry’s lips are still as soft as they were a moment ago but he’s pushing roughly against Louis’ mouth and before he even has a chance to push back, he feels sharp teeth raking over his lower lip before biting down. He couldn’t stop the moan escaping his lips if he tired.

 

Harry’s thigh pushes between his legs and the memory of his thighs covered in louis’ come makes his mouth fall open around a silent gasp. Wetness crawls into his mouth as Harry’s tongue moves against his teeth and over his own tongue. Louis’ completely at his mercy, can only find enough strength to lift his hands to Harry’s hair and push back against his thigh that’s grinding against his crotch.

 

Harry’s hands crawl down his back and towards his arse as he bites down on his lips again and Louis can only grind back against him helplessly. His hips stutter when Harry pushes his thigh roughly against his cock and then keeps it there, his own hardness digging into Louis’ hip. His fingers wrap around a handful of curls and he pulls sharply when Harry shamelessly rides his thigh.

 

And just like last time, the second Louis pulls his hair Harry goes pliant in his hands. Only this time, his hands reach lower and he grips tightly around Louis’ thighs before picking him up and pushing his back even harder against the wall. 

 

Louis’ scrambling for purchase as he wraps his legs around Harry’s waist and his arms circle his neck, Harry thrusts up with his hips and in the midst of being lifted and held against the wall, Louis stutters to a stop when he feels Harry’s cock against his arse. His mouth is open around a hiccup, his arms tightening around Harry’s neck as he instinctively grinds down on his hard cock.

 

Harry’s stealing away the moan from his mouth as his tongue slathers Louis’ mouth before he feels bruising lips on his. His eyes are closed and he can feel Harry walking but he doesn’t care, couldn’t possibly care as Harry bites down on his collar bone and his teeth dig in enough to hurt, his tongue soothes the pain before he sucks hard on the heated skin. 

 

Louis feels spots behind his closed eyelids as Harry’s teeth rake over the spot again. His back hits something soft and he opens his eyes to see Harry hovering over him, and looks around to find they’re in his room.

 

His hips are thrusting up into thin air helplessly as Harry holds himself over Louis, his elbows on either side of Louis’ head and their bodies so close but not touching anywhere. Harry’s eyes are dark, his mouth obscenely wet and open but his features are trained into adamant lines as he refuses to lower himself. Louis reaches up and pulls him down with his hand around his neck and his legs wrapping up around Harry’s hips, he comes willingly. His crotch settles over Louis’ and he can feel both of them are hard but Harry refuses to move so Louis rolls them over and straddles him.

 

Harry is spread out on the bed underneath him, he rushes forward and brings his lips to Harry’s. All the while his hips grinding down into Harry’s and little noises escape his mouth when Louis pulls away and trails his teeth down his neck. Harry’s hands are roaming across his back as he takes his time mouthing down Harry’s neck. He’s thrashing under him so Louis takes his hands and pins them to the mattress above his head and bites down hard on his pulse point, Harry goes absolutely still under him.

 

When he finally pulls back to look at Harry, his eyes are closed and his mouth open around silent pants and Louis knows he’s not going to last long. He lets go of Harry’s hands and gets up to take off his clothes. Harry seems to get the message as well and he scrambles to sit up and rips off his clothes, when Louis turns around he finds Harry spread out across the bed with his hands raised above his head in submission and he could come just from this, he knows. 

 

When he lies down on top of Harry as their chests line up and his legs settle in between Harrys’, Louis remembers something.

 

“Is this what you meant? My weight on top of you?”

 

Harry’s biting down on his lip and silently nods his head and Louis thinks he’s going to wreck this boy if it’s the last thing he does. He reaches up a hand to grip Harry’s hands where they’re curled around the bedsheet over his head. He pulls his hips up before thrusting them down, the second he feels Harry’s cock against his own every shred of self-control he had slips away and he’s leaning down to kiss Harry one last time before he sits up and pushes Harry’s knees up. 

 

He reaches down and takes Harry in his hand and strokes gently, a bottle of lube somehow ends up next to his hand. He looks up to find Harry blushing furiously,

 

“Always ready, I’m impressed Harold.”

 

Harry stays silent and still as Louis lathers up his fingers, when he experimentally tugs on Harry’s already wet cock with his lubed-up hand the boy gasps loudly and his hips arch off the bed. Louis pulls his hands away and gives him a second to calm down before he leans down and bites lightly on Harry’s inner thigh to distract him. Just as Harry moves his leg toward him, he traces a finger around his rim and Harry moans, his toes curling just as Louis pushes the finger in. 

 

It’s a slow rhythm of moving the finger back and forth till he adds another one, Harry writhing around by the time Louis’ got three fingers in him. The little hiccups he lets out make Louis want to keep fucking him with his fingers all day, but he needs release more that Harry does so he pulls his fingers out and sits up between Harry’s spread thighs.

 

Harry lifts his head to look at him and Louis feels like the breath’s been punched out of him. He looks wrecked already, his curls haphazardly falling over his blown eyes, lips bitten and shining and a beautiful mark on his neck that Louis’ left there. He snaps out of it and pushes into Harry without any warning, his eyes locked on Harry’s face and watching how his mouth falls open with a loud groan escaping, his eyes shut tight as his head falls back onto the bed. 

 

Louis holds still for a second to give Harry time to adjust but the very next moment, Harry moves his hips and clenches around Louis. That’s all the teasing he can take as he pulls out almost all the way and thrusts back in, Harry arches off the bed so Louis leans forward and holds his hips down in a tight grip. 

 

Thrust after thrust, Harry meets him halfway and circles his hips slowly while loud moans echo off the walls. Harry wraps his legs around Louis’ waist and his ankles are digging into his back as he hiccups under Louis, his own senses completely overwhelmed by Harry everywhere around him.

 

“Ah! Fuck, Louis please.”

 

He changes the angle a little bit and pushes in harder - Harry is screaming under him, his hands are twisting in the sheet above his head. Louis leans up on his hands and starts thrusting deeper, his hips protesting the fast movement but Harry’s broken off moans egging him on,

 

“Louis, oh fuck, yeah--please, god yeah, aaah”

 

His back is going to kill him, but he digs his toes into the bed and thrusts hard enough that Harry shifts up the bed a little and screams loud enough that if they had neighbours they’d be calling the police right now. Louis doesn’t let up, thighs trembling but he pulls back and pushes in again mercilessly pounding in and the way Harry trembles under him he knows he’s found the spot,

 

“Ah! Fuuuck.”

 

Harry’s off the bed, his legs wound tightly around Louis’ middle as he comes between them. Louis almost chokes when he feels Harry repeatedly clenching and unclenching around him as he’s coming down from his orgasm. And the way he tightens up around Louis, he’s choking on a moan as his eyes slip closed with spots behind them. He’s already gone as he comes inside Harry but then a hushed whisper absolutely knocks him out,

 

“I’ve never loved anyone this much.”

 

Harry’s arms circle around him as he trembles from the aftershocks, his body has completely given up and within seconds he’s falling asleep with his head nestled on Harry’s chest and their legs entwined.

 

***

 

He wakes up to find Louis sprawled next to him, and for the first time he allows himself to touch without remorse. To just reach out and put one finger on his golden skin and watch him stir before going back to sleep, his mouth falling open and his eyelashes fluttering for a moment. 

 

He wants to wake up to this everyday. His hand moves down Louis’ back and he’s drawing random patterns between his shoulder blades.

 

“Hmm?”

 

Louis’ looking at him with one eye open and possibly the most adorable sleepy expression on his face, he can’t help but scoot closer to him and kiss him on the forehead, the words slip out before he can stop himself.

 

“I love you.”

 

Louis hides his face in the pillow but Harry caught the little smile playing on his lips anyway, he presses his forehead to Louis’ and stays there for a long moment. Neither of them speaks for a while as Louis angles his body closer to Harry’s and they just lie there fitting together like a well-worn puzzle.

 

“I want tea.”

 

Harry just tightens his arms around Louis silently, not making any move to get up. Louis kicks at his leg and he can’t help the huge grin that slips onto his face but he hides it in Louis’ hair.

 

“Harold, get me tea.”

 

When he doesn’t budge, Louis tries to get out of his grip but Harry’s practically got him surrounded with his arms and long legs. Louis struggles for a bit, his legs kicking at Harry’s helplessly but he gives up eventually breathing hard and nuzzling his face in Harry’s chest. 

 

He does let go then chucking at Louis,

 

“Can’t believe you’re being this bossy so soon.”

 

He’s putting on a pair of pants and rubbing his eyes as a yawn escapes out of his lips.

 

“I’m bitchy without my tea, you know this.”

 

“Alright, your majesty. I’ll get you tea.”

 

“Thank you, darling.”

 

He almost stumbles over his shirt when he hears that, turns around to find Louis sitting up in bed staring at him with a huge smirk on his face.

 

“You little shit!”

 

“What? You don’t want me to call you that?”

 

Harry sighs at just how much he’s wanted exactly this - this easy banter with Louis, a chance to see him like this in his bed - sleepy and soft, to have him in his arms every night and to wake up next to him every morning.

 

“No, please continue.”

 

He walks to the kitchen and puts the kettle on, Louis comes in with a blanket trailing behind him and attaches himself to Harry’s back as he stands looking at the kettle. 

 

“You’re so fucking tall, Haz.”

 

He turns around and pulls Louis to him, 

 

“You’re the perfect size for me.”

 

“You’re such a fucking hipster, Styles!”

 

“Only for you.”

 

“Please stop.”

 

Louis pulls away his head from Harry’s chest to look up at him and that’s the moment when he promises himself that he’s never going to give this man up.

 

“I’ll tell Liam when he gets back. I’ll sort it out, promise.”

 

Louis tenses up a little, his brows furrow and lips turn into a thin line before he leans his head against Harry’s chest again.

 

“No, I’ll talk to him.”

 

He’s about to protest when Louis speaks again, so soft that he’d have missed it if he didn’t feel his lips moving against his chest,

 

“Harry?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You do want to be with me, right? I’m not reading this wrong, am--”

 

Out of all the things he’s seen Louis do, out of everything he’s heard Louis share with him, this is the quietest he’s ever heard him and the doubt on his face makes something hurt deep in his chest.

 

“Everyday, no matter what, I want to wake up next to you. I am so so sorry for leaving you that day, I was panicking and I didn’t consider how you’d feel. I am so fucking sorry, never leaving you again. I promise. I--”

 

Louis stands up on his tip toes and kisses him silent, Harry is definitely not averse to kissing. Louis doesn’t give him time to react when he reaches behind him to take the kettle off the burner before pushing his lips next to Harry’s ear,

 

“When you were singing that song in the club, I wanted to jump onto the stage and fuck you right then and there. With your headscarf and your stupid earring, and everyone else watching.”

 

He’s frozen on the spot with his knuckles clutching the counter behind him as Louis pulls away and walks back to the room with the stupid blanket still trailing behind him. It takes him a moment to compose himself, when he finally stumbles into the room it’s to find Louis spread out on the bed with his knees bent and two fingers working in and out of him while his eyes bore into Harry’s.

 

Hours later, he finally gets out of bed again. His back is absolutely killing him, thighs trembling as he he tries to bend over to pick up his pants. The doorbell rings again and he rushes down the stairs wincing as his legs protest.

 

Liam is sitting at the dining table when he finally makes it downstairs.

 

***

 

“Liam? When did you--”

 

“Harry, I need to talk to you about something.”

 

“I need to tell you something, I am so so sorry--”

 

“Harry, just listen to me, Louis--”

 

“You’re going to hate me when I tell you and I am so so sorry for--”

 

“Stop. I need to say this, and I need you to tell Louis what I’ve said.”

 

“I don’t think you’ll want that after I tell--”

 

“You and Louis are the most important people to me, I love you both. And I’d do anything for you.”

 

“Oh god, Liam--”

 

“Please, let me finish.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Louis is, he--our dad left when we were young, I was too young to even know what was happening and Louis took over. He, uh--stepped up and he took charge. Raised us all, me and the girls. And I’ve only ever known him as a brother and as a dad, that’s who I think of when someone talks about their dad. He raised me and today if in any conversation it comes up he calls me the responsible one, calls himself immature. And I just, I’ve never met anyone who’s put himself down as much as he does.

 

Two years ago after Aiden left, he broke. He absolutely fell apart and he didn’t even love Aiden, I don’t think. It was just that for the first time he trusted someone, he gave someone power over himself and Aiden, he just didn’t think of him at all when he chose to leave. And I was there, Louis never complained to us, he never said anything. It was like watching life drain out of him. He used to be the brightest person in the room and he just--it was painful to watch. Mum and me, we tried to get him to talk but Zayn was the only one who knew the whole story. A couple of weeks after Aiden, Louis signed up for the Military Program and his training started and Mum and I were just losing it. I thought the training would last a couple months, and in that time I’ll convince him to stay. That he’ll back out of it but then one morning he comes in dressed up in his uniform and says he’s leaving for Afghanistan. 

 

Mum was terrified, the girls didn’t know what was happening, I was trying to talk him out of it till the second he boarded that plane but he’s always been someone who does what he wants. So yeah, I always thought Aiden was the reason he left. And I held it against him, I still do. Louis might say otherwise but I’ll never forgive him. 

 

Then last month, Mum called and told me about the incident in Afghanistan and all I could think was he is going to fall apart. See, the thing about Louis is he’ll take charge, he will physically push you behind himself when there’s danger but he’s also the most sensitive person I know. You’ll see it if you look real close, in the moments before he steps up, in the moments where he thinks he’s alone you’ll see it if you look. And I just, I wasn’t ready to lose him again, to see him like a shell of himself again. I knew he needed someone, after everything he’s been through he deserves someone. But I also know him, and he was never going to let anyone in again, not after Aiden. He was never going to trust someone, but he needed help.

 

And, you’re going to hate me by the end of the this but I need to say it. 

 

Just hours after Mum told me about Louis, I met with Gemma. I, I’d always gotten the impression that she didn’t approve of me and us, so I requested her to meet and she agreed. I asked her why she didn’t think we’d last and she didn’t want to offend me but I got it out of her. Said we were too alike, too serious about life and we both need someone to lighten us up. And then she said something that hit me too hard, she said we were going to end up suffocating each other. And I, I could see that happening.

 

Even months ago before any of this, I could see you slipping away. We were drifting apart and I didn’t know how to stop it and honestly I didn’t try. But when all of this happened, I realised something. I don’t think I--I don’t think we’ve ever been in love. After Louis left, I needed someone because I depended on him for everything so I needed someone new to depend on and that was you. Because you remind me of him, in everything you do and did. You remind me of him because I always thought you two would get on so well if you knew him. 

 

Just things you said and stuff you did, it all always reminded me of him. And when Gemma said all that, I thought you and him would definitely work. I am sorry for lying to you and manipulating you but I am not sorry that I did this. You are both stubborn people and there was no way either of you would give in.

 

I uh, I knew we were going to end soon. I didn’t want to suffocate you, I know you and if we ended badly you’d blame yourself and never give anyone else a chance. And I knew that you and Louis would get on, he’d at least find a great friend in you and you in him. So, I volunteered for the trip at work and got Louis to move in. I was hoping that you would end up falling in love because I know you both and yeah. 

 

At the very least I knew you could get a great friendship out of this. But then Mum called me after you two left Doncaster and said you and Louis had fallen for each other but you weren’t going to do anything and I just, I should’ve known. I mean I know you both would try to not--okay, so I am sorry for lying to you and for manipulating you. I will understand if you never want to talk to me again. 

 

But I knew that you could fix him. And I knew that he’d give you the world.”

 

He’s left wordless. 

 

Nothing makes sense and yet everything does.

 

Liam is looking at him with eyes that could melt mountains and Harry just doesn’t know what to say. This is the person he was with for over a year. This is the person he cheated on.

 

But then, is it cheating if Liam had himself set this all up?

 

Before he can even open his mouth, Louis is walking over to Liam and where did he come from? Did he hear everything? 

 

“Liam, you absolute wanker!”

 

Yup, he did.

 

“Louis? I--”

 

“You twat! Bloody bastard! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

 

Louis is still only wearing his pants and if Liam is so much as looking at him, he can definitely see the angry red marks on his skin. Harry looks away instantly because this is hurting his head now.

 

“I just, I’m sorry for setting you up like this but I knew you wouldn’t--”

 

“You know shit! How fucking dare you? I knew you idolised me and put me up on a pedestal but this is insane. Sacrificing your own happiness for--”

 

“I didn’t. I’m not saying I wasn’t happy before but I know me and Harry weren’t going to work out. And I am just so, so happy now because you both are. I promise.”

 

So he did notice both their states, then. Okay.

 

Louis plops down on the chair across from Liam who’s standing over him and looking down at at his brother like he wants him to just look up at him once. Louis is staring at the floor with his head in his hands.

 

“Oh my god, I just--I can’t believe I’ve let you do this, Li.”

 

“Lou, you haven’t, you haven’t let me do anything. I promise, I wouldn’t have done it if me and Harry were in love. I mean, I just, we weren’t going to last and I knew you’d work out.”

 

“Who else knew? I mean, about the whole plan or whatever.”

 

“Nobody. Just me and I told Mum after I was in Tokyo already, she was pissed off at me but she came around when you went home and she saw you two. No one else, not even Zayn.”

 

Louis gets up and pulls Liam into his chest, he’s holding on so tight and all Harry can see is two brothers clinging to each other in a moment of sheer desperation.

 

“You’re so thick, Liam. So fucking stupid.”

 

“No, you are. That’s why you didn’t see what I could.”

 

“Oh god, I can’t believe this! And me and Harold almost killed each other with the amount of angst we had going on between the two of us.”

 

“But you did fall for him, right?”

 

Harry’s waiting with a baited breath as Louis and Liam are still clinging to each other and talking into each other’s shoulders. He’s almost too nervous to breath, Louis breaks off the hug and turns to him and holds his arm out for Harry to join them. He rushes over a bit too quickly and now they’re standing in a weird three-way hug.

 

“That I did.”

 

He’s whispered it so slow that Harry thinks he might have imagined it. But then Liam steps away and Louis’ arm lingers around him for a second before pulling away.

 

“I hope you know that this doesn’t mean any weird threesomes because oh god, no. You’re my brother and I think I need to bleach my brain out! I’ll be right back.”

 

He takes off so fast that Liam and Harry are left staring at the spot he was just in.

 

And like Liam had said, if you look real close you’ll see it.

 

He did look closely and he saw Louis blinking away tears and a spare one rolling down his cheek as he ran away toward the bathroom. 

 

Liam is looking at him with doubtful eyes and Harry has no idea what to say to him. He knows one thing for sure, though.

 

Liam comes easily when Harry pulls him toward himself. It’s not one bit awkward and that’s strange but Harry goes with it.

 

“I love you.”

 

Liam tightens his arms around him and holds on.

 

“I love you too.”

 

And that’s all that needs to be said.

 

Niall was right. There is a difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. And Harry is so glad that it’s Liam who’s taught him that.

 

Liam, who gave him Louis.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope it was good. I know the 'resolution' was a bit unrealistic/abrupt but I didn't want to hurt any of them, so. And I'm looking for prompts and as you've probably noticed the only thing I am capable of writing is angst, so if you've got a prompt, hit me. Which also brings me to another thing, again, apologies for the stilted, awkward smut. I wish I could write better but well. So, it's been nice. Cheers!


	9. We were meant to be but a twist of fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just like I'd imagined the ending didn't sit well with many readers but all I can say is I was happy with the way it was. Like, I did want to write an epilogue but the response on the last chapter put me off this story. Anyway, I did it.
> 
> UPDATE: Just added a bit about Harry and his singing career.

It’s a little disconcerting looking at the past couple months and how everything changed around them in such a little time. This time two months ago they were both killing themselves trying to stay away from each other and not cross any boundaries and here they are now Harry’s lying awake in bed looking at Louis’ sleeping form as sunlight streams in from the open curtains.

 

He gets out of bed and pads out to the kitchen to start tea, they both have classes to go to soon. The wooden floor creaks under his feet because it’s an old house but it was cheap and close to school so they’d took it. 

 

It’s theirs. 

 

After that conversation with Liam, Harry and Louis had sat down with him and told him everything. Asked for his forgiveness or just simply told him everything, Liam had just kept saying he was happy they’d found each other. 

 

In his private moments, Harry does think about it sometimes. Even though he knows he and Liam were never in love and Gemma was probably right that they would’ve ended up suffocating each other, he still can’t help but feel sorry for Liam.

 

He’s alone now, and Harry and he were supposed to be together. He has Louis now and he never wants anything more but at the same time he also recognizes how peculiar this situation is, and how hard it would be to explain to someone how Harry used to date Liam but he’s now with his older brother.

 

The kettle is whistling behind him so he takes a moment to turn it off, his thoughts still running rampant through his mind. The traffic outside on the street is getting busier as they get closer to rush hour, and he can hear the other students in the complex starting to wake up too.

 

He’s got a test in class today and Louis had stayed up late with him last night, quizzing him. He’s gone back to school too, studying English. They’re both at University of London and some days when their schedules allow it, they get lunch together. Louis’ also working at the local hospital in the Psych ward on the weekends and between those shifts and Harry’s gigs, they make enough to live comfortably.

 

Louis says he has enough saved up from Afghanistan that they can go on holiday this summer, anywhere Harry wants. 

 

It’s just, he’s never had anyone look at him the way Louis does. Liam was so loving in his own right, but this is a different life. His mum has also fallen in love with Louis, it seems. When they’d gone to Cheshire to meet his family, they’d all loved Louis. 

 

It was a bit hard to explain to them just how Louis and Harry got together and he was so worried about their reaction, but his mum had said that Harry looked genuinely happy and that if her baby’s happy she’s happy.

 

Gemma and Louis get along really well, he’s found, much to his disliking. Because now they trade embarrassing stories of him on a daily basis and more often than not Louis brings up a particularly embarrassing story of him when they’re lying peacefully in bed late at night.

 

But everything else aside, he looks at Louis sometimes when he doesn’t know Harry’s around. When he’s sitting at the tiny dinner table reading the paper and gets so lost that his glasses fall low onto his nose but he keeps reading. Or when he’s sitting in the car outside waiting for Harry, with his windows up and belting out off-key songs at the top of his lungs. Or when he sits beside Harry while they’re watching a film but the whole time his eyes are on Harry. 

 

He still can’t wrap his head around how Louis makes him feel. How intensely and how badly, some days he wonders if other people his age have ever felt so intensely and desperately about someone. Wonders if this kind of love is reserved for old, married couples after decades of being together. 

 

And now he’s late because he’s been day dreaming about Louis again. He rushes to the bedroom and shakes Louis’ shoulder. 

 

“Go away, Harold.”

 

“You’re going to be late for class if you’re not up right now.”

 

“Fuck this, I already went through the hell of college once. Remind me why am I doing this again?”

 

“Because you want to publish books. And tell the world about how soldiers live and how brave—“

 

“Thanks Sylvia Plath, I’m up.”

 

He leans in to kiss Harry’s forehead where he’s standing in front of the mirror tying his headscarf. They run around each other getting ready and it’s so domestic that Harry still can’t believe it’s only been two months. When they’re finally done getting ready, they’re dressed up in at least half of each other’s clothes and it’s alright. 

 

“You’re coming to the club tonight, right? I swear if you don’t—“

 

“I’ll be there, Harold. Wouldn’t miss it for the world, love.”

 

Greg had come through for the band and they're recording their first album now. They've been to radio shows and such, interviewing and performing a bit here and there. It's gotten to the point where people in his classes sometimes ask him if he's the Harry Styles that was on radio last night. 

 

He had told Louis that he was signed with a label from the bathroom just seconds after he'd signed the contract. And Louis keeps telling him everyday that he's meant to be on stage. He says he will support Harry if he chooses to become a famous popstar and goes on tours every year. And he'll support Harry if he chooses to keep studying and not make a career just yet. Harry just sighs and looks at him when he says this, because what has he done to deserve this?

Twenty minutes later, Louis’ holding his face in his hands and telling him he’ll do great on the test and Harry thinks he will. Of course, he will. He studied so much last night, of course he will.

 

But it’s just the way that Louis’ eyes bore into his, in this hallway full of people Louis’ holding on to his face with earnest eyes and soft hands and Harry is so glad he’s found this person in life.

 

***

 

Harry is positively glowing under the stage lights, he’s talking to the crowd in the dark club but his eyes are stuck somewhere over at the bar and sure enough when he turns to look, Louis is standing next to the bar staring back toward the stage. He startles when a hand grips at his shoulder and turns around to find Zayn smiling at him.

 

“Alright, Liam?”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Just haven’t seen Harry perform in so long.”

 

“He owns the stage when he’s on. Crowd loves him.”

 

“And Niall and Josh too, they’re all really good.”

 

“Yeah. Li, are you alright mate?”

 

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

“I mean, with those two.”

 

Zayn nods his chin toward where Louis has moved to the front of the crowd and he's looking up at Harry who seems to only have eyes for Louis too. It’s painfully beautiful, he tears his eyes away. Zayn is looking worriedly at him and he motions toward an empty booth where they can hear each better without having to shout everything.

 

“I know you lot are worried about me but I’m fine. Like I already told you all, me and Harry weren’t going anywhere. And just, look at those two!”

 

They both turn around to find Louis and Harry still pretty much lost in each other. Every once in a while, they’ll look away but it’s like they get pulled toward each other.

 

“I never had that with Harry, I don’t think many people ever find that in their lives. It’s a bid weird, I know, seeing my ex-boyfriend with my brother but like, I’ve moved on. The day I took that flight to Tokyo I knew I was moving on from Harry and I had plenty of time.”

 

“You really are something else. Lou is really worried about you, y’know. I mean he’s got Harry but I swear they’re both still holding back, I don’t blame them. This is a weird situation.”

 

“Do me a favour, Zayn?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Talk to him, both of them. Tell them I’m so, so happy because they are. Just fucking look at them, if Harry had met him first they’d definitely be married by now or summat. I mean just because they didn’t meet before me and Harry, it doesn’t mean anything. People date so many people in their lives, that doesn’t stop them from being with the one person they’re meant to be with. 

Cuz that’s what’s happening here. They are meant to be together, but like fate worked in a different way for them. And you don’t need to be worried about me, I’ve found someone.”

 

Zayn turns around abruptly with raised eyebrows and he can feel his cheeks burning a little. He looks away before answering him.

 

“Her name’s Sophia, she’s also interning at the same company. She uh, she asked me out yesterday.”

 

“And?”

 

“And I said yes. I really like her, think this’ll be great.”

 

Zayn pats his shoulder encouragingly before giving him a soft smile,

 

“I’m happy for you, Li. And I’ll have a chat with them, well Niall will but I’ll make sure he does.”

 

“Thanks, Zayn.”

 

“As long as you’re happy, Li.”

 

He sighs and offers Zayn an honest smile because yes, he is happy.

 

***

 

“Why’d you have to stare at me the whole time?”

 

“You were staring right back.”

 

“Damnit Lou, I was on the stage and you were practically—“

 

He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before Louis is pulling on his hand and leading him toward the bathroom. The second they’re in, Louis pushes him into a stall and locks it behind himself. 

 

His eyes are so dark, Harry can hardly see the beautiful shade of blue he loves so much. Louis is pushing him against the wall and biting at his lips in seconds, his thigh insistent against Harry’s crotch.

 

“Your stupid headscarf.”

 

He licks down Harry’s neck and bites down lightly on the right side.

 

“Your stupid tight jeans.”

 

His tongue laps at Harry’s Adam’s apple and he bites down on the left side of his neck. Harry grinds down against Louis’ thigh but his breath hitches when Louis’ teeth rake against his neck, over his Adam’s apple before biting down on it. 

 

He moans aloud when he feels the pressure,

 

“And your stupid fucking earring.”

 

Harry is whimpering by the time Louis finally pulls away from his neck. He’s sure there will be angry marks all over his neck. 

 

“Louis, please.”

 

His mouth travels down to Harry’s collar bone, his tongue lapping at the swallows there before he rakes his teeth teasingly slow over his pulse point. His thigh spreads Harry’s legs wider so he can settle between them. 

 

He can feel Louis’ hard cock against his and it sends shivers down his spine when Louis rubs up against him, his hand curling around Harry’s hip roughly. Louis’ mouth returns to kiss Harry and nip at his lips, he’s left panting into Louis’ mouth as they thrust against each other.

 

“I love you.”

 

Louis’ hips stutter before he pulls back and opens the button on Harry’s jeans. He’s too far gone to do anything so he just stands there with his head thrown back against the wall as Louis unzips him and kneels down in front of him. 

 

Harry looks down for a second, but the sight of Louis on his knees with dark eyes staring up at him is too much so he closes his eyes and curls his hands in Lou’s hair. He feels Louis’ breath on the head and his fingers pull on his hair to let him know that Harry’s too close for Louis to be teasing him right now.

 

Louis places a soft kiss on the slit before he moves his lips over his length, taking him down pretty much the whole way. Harry’s not in control of the noises he’s making right now, Louis’ tongue curls around the sensitive vein before he hums softly around Harry and there’s literally tears in his closed eyes from how badly he wants to come. 

 

“I love you, Lou. God, I love you so much.”

 

Louis takes him down again, his fingers gripping Harry’s thighs tight enough to leave finger-shaped bruises and then he feels Louis’ throat against his head.

 

His breath hitches on a hiccup, knees too weak to hold him up anymore and he grips Louis’ hair for support as he swallows around Harry. When he’s finally calmed down enough he finds Louis bringing himself off, he kneels down in front of him and brings his hand around Louis’. His other hand goes to Louis' collar bone and the fresh tattoo he's got there. 

 

It is what it is.

 

When he kisses Louis he feels a bitter taste on his tongue, his hand tightening against Louis’ cock as he listens to Lou’s voice breaking into moans and hiccups before he comes into Harry’s hand with a choked sob.

 

They’re up and buttoning up their clothes again when they hear movement from the next stall over. Louis rushes out immediately to find a girl getting out of the stall, her face bright red as she avoids their eyes and rushes to get out of the bathroom. 

 

He’s waiting for Louis to finish washing his hands when their eyes meet in the mirror. Louis’ staring at him and Harry just wants to take him home now, he steps toward Louis and the clumsy idiot that he is, steps over his own foot and lands splayed on Louis’ back.

 

Lou’s jeans are ruined with water splashed all over them, Harry offers him an apologetic smile,

 

“Oops!”

 

“Hi.”

 

Louis places a chaste kiss on his lips and pulls back.

 

They walk out of the club and rush toward their house. Harry keeps whispering ‘I love you’ to Louis on the way who keeps smiling like it’s the first time he’s heard it.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, this makes it better.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope someone's reading..


End file.
